


Finding Lost Family

by ChrissyStriped



Series: Don't forget the Light [5]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bigotry & Prejudice, Brotherly Love, Cultural Differences, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family Reunions, Freedom, Gen, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Slavery, Post-War of Wrath, Prisoner of War, Rebirth, Redemption, Shower Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 59,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrissyStriped/pseuds/ChrissyStriped
Summary: After Sharû and his soldiers helped the slaves regain their freedom, they are prisoners of war. Future is an uncertain thing for both the orcs and the freed elves. Ecthelion intends to make life better for all of them.
Relationships: Ecthelion of the Fountain & Sharû (OMC), Ecthelion of the Fountain/Original Male Character(s), Ecthelion of the Fountain/Sharû (OMC)
Series: Don't forget the Light [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1529744
Comments: 75
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you, who haven't read Mighty Love (or if you just want to refresh your memory): The story of how Mo and Sharû freed the slaves of Angband can be found in the second half of [Chapter 34](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11790954/chapters/32614362) of that story.

Sharû stood paralysed with horror and forced his face into a blank mask. Sauron wanted them to kill the slaves. _All_ of them! It seemed to him that every Maia present must hear his heart break. He didn’t dare to look at Mormirion, his friend, co-conspirator in easing the slaves's suffering. What would he do? He couldn’t expect their men to do this!

First he made them see that slaves weren’t worthless, not just things – if not family at least distant relations – and now they were supposed to kill them? It had been hard in the beginning, they’d been taught for too long to hate elves. Sharû had had to take drastic measures now and then. He didn’t allow slaves to be tortured, his men had learned that. And their own lives were so different under Mormirion.

Sharû knew the army, he had served on campaign. There were constant fights, often spurred on by superiors, but not in their company. They had always enough to eat, and they were eating well. Every soldier had his own bed and the weapons they were given were the best an orc could get in Angband. Sharû didn’t know how Mormirion had managed it, but his men were happy and infighting rare. Of course they fought now and then over a lost game of dice, but Sharû had made clear that he expected discipline. They knew that everyone involved would be punished when they fought. They weren’t all best friends, but they stuck together.

Some of them had been slaves, or sons of slaves. Some of them were like Sharû’s father had been and Sharû wondered sometimes how they had survived so long, he saw the pain in their eyes. With some of them, the old blood had resurfaced after generations. They came from different places, but they weren’t that different. And they cared for the slaves. All of them. When Mormirion let it be known that no one had to fear retribution for sharing rations with slaves, they had found a way to feed the slaves better.

If Mormirion tried to force them to follow Sauron’s order there would be an uprising. He felt sick and when Mormirion turned to leave he hurried to follow him. There had to be another way, anything... “Mormirion...” They were out of earshot and he wanted to talk to him as a friend. The Maia looked at him with hopeless eyes and shook his head. “Not now, colonel.” “But...” “Assemble the men, I want to talk to them.”

Sharû sighed. “As you command, Sir.” He was afraid. It was over, they wouldn’t be able to hold Angband, even he could see that. Why kill the slaves now? And even if there had still been a chance. _He_ couldn’t have done it, never, not to save his own life.

“What about our women and children, Sir?”, Captain Mardag asked softly and Sharû froze. He had been so glad that he didn’t have to murder slaves, that Mormirion intended to free them instead, that he hadn’t thought about the consequences losing the war would have on their people. Mormirion lifted his gaze from the map that showed the tunnel they would take if everything went according to plan, even before he said anything, Sharû knew that it was impossible.

“It is too far east. We won’t make it in time.” Mormirion looked like it pained him as much as Sharû, he knew the Maia was right. He had made this journey often when his sister had been still alive. It had taken him two days to get there. And with an army, that had no business there, it would take at least twice as long. They didn’t have the time. “But we have to be able to do something!”, he still said. “I’ll send a messenger, a volunteer, so they at least know what is heading their way.”

The valley was so remote... if one didn’t know the tunnels, it would cost time to even find it. “They’ll at least have a chance to run and hide.” Since the king had left Angband, he felt like an invisible weight had lifted off his mind. Never in his long years had he thought about escape, not for himself. Now he felt as if everything was possible although his future looked so bleak. “If they go east, they might escape the Valar’s army.”

“I’ll go”, Mardag said. “And if you allow, Sir, I’ll take a few men with me. The women will need help.” Mormirion hesitated for a moment, then he nodded. “I won’t force anyone to help me with this mad undertaking.” He looked each of the assembled captains in the eyes. “As I told you earlier, I can’t tell you what waits for you at the end of that tunnel. If you’d rather try to escape with your women, it is your right. Just tell me, how many will leave and I’ll write you a commission so you won’t be taken as deserters. Ask your men, let them decide.”

“I’ll follow you, Sir”, Sharû said. Mormirion had always been loyal to him and his men, he wouldn’t leave him now. He would help him free the slaves. Mormirion smiled at him. “Thank you, Sharû.”

~*~*~

Ecthelion stepped into the council tent, they were barely two days in the camp and there were a lot of things to talk about with the king and Aule had promised to be there, too. They already waited for him and Ecthelion bowed to his king and the Vala and accepted the glass of wine a servant offered him. “Thank you”, he said softly and the servant smiled at him. In the past he wouldn’t have noticed him, would have seen it as natural that someone was offering him something to drink – but that had been before.

“Please, take a seat”, Finarfin motioned to a chair and Ecthelion sat down. “We are waiting for Gil-galad”, Finarfin said. “He’ll represent the Noldor in Exile.” Ecthelion nodded slowly. He had never met Fingon’s son, but he supposed he was next in line for kingship. (Would have been? Now that they were pardoned and Finarfin was here.)

“What about Feanor’s sons. Do we know where they are?” A cloud passed over both Finarfin’s and Aule’s faces. Aule sat, too. “Only Maedhros and Maglor are still alive. Eonwe is searching for them. Ecthelion, how much do you know about what happened after the fall of Gondolin?” “I heard what they did to Doriath, if that is, what you ask. And”, although tent canvas was above his head, Ecthelion lifted his eyes up, “the new Star was bright enough to even tear through the clouds above Angband. Is it really the Silmaril? Though how that came to be, none of us could tell.”

Finarfin grimaced. “I fear, my nephews murdered a third time. Elwing, daughter of Dior, escaped with the Silmaril to the survivors of Gondolin at the Mouths of Sirion. She met Earendil there and they married. But my nephews still wanted the Silmaril back. They attacked when Earendil was at sea, searching for a way to Aman, it was a massacre. But Elwing escaped again, turning into a bird – some say Ulmo did it.” Finarfin looked at Aule for confirmation.

“I don’t know”, the Vala answered. “Maybe she did it herself, her great-grandmother was Melian. Anyway, she found Earendil and the Silmaril brought them through our enchantments and Earendil asked for mercy on behalf of both Elves and Men. And now we are here and Earendil sails the skies with the Silmaril.”

“They had two sons, twins”, Finarfin said softly. “They weren’t among the dead, so maybe Maedhros and Maglor took them, but we don’t know for sure.” Ecthelion didn’t know what to say. Not just about the horrible things Feanor’s sons had done. The boy, he had taught to play the flute, was a star now? He looked up when Gil-galad entered the tent. “Please excuse my lateness”, he said and Ecthelion gulped, his eyes misty. Fingolfin’s whole family looked very alike and Gil-galad wasn’t an exception.

Ecthelion remembered so well how he had seen Turgon for the last time, in the middle of his burning city, refusing to leave it. He had lost so many friends that day – and in a way his life, too. The young king looked curiously at him and Finarfin introduced them. Ecthelion had to give credit to Gil-galad for not showing a reaction to his burns. Most people stared at seeing him for the first time.

Ecthelion didn’t know how bad it was, he hadn’t seen himself in a mirror yet and he wasn’t sure if he wanted. He knew that it was bad, but to know it and to see it, were two different things and he had been very proud of his looks once. “You represent the former slaves and the orcs?” Ecthelion nodded. “Sharû, their colonel, would surely like to speak for himself, but considering the circumstances... Yes, I represent them, too.”

“Why?”, Gil-galad asked. “They are orcs. Enemies.” “Fallen brothers.” Ecthelion sighed. “I know how much hatred is between us – the elves and the orcs, that is. I don’t think it will be easy to overcome that but what is the alternative? Do you want to murder them in cold blood? And it would be murder. They surrendered of their own free will and without a fight. We treat prisoners decently. Otherwise we aren’t better than the enemy.”

That made them fall silent for a moment, finally Finarfin said: “Ecthelion, how are... the former slaves?” “As good as can be expected under the circumstances.” Ecthelion smiled wryly. “We’ve slept in worse places.” “I hope you know that you can expect any help you wish from me.” “Thank you, my king. What we need most is decent clothes.”

He had been given clothing that befitted his rank – and the heavy brocade felt strange after such a long time wearing rags –, but he knew that he received preferential treatment because of this rank. “Most of us walked around in rags.” Or nothing at all. Aule looked surprised at him. “You wore armour when you came here.” Ecthelion nodded. “Yes. Because Mormirion opened the armoury to us. Usually our masters didn’t much care what we wore.”

Ecthelion needed a moment to understand why they stared at him so appalled. “I had to come to terms with that life”, he said and carefully kept any emotion out of his voice. “It wasn’t easy for someone as proud as me. And it is not enough to pretend and think something else, that invites mistakes. Yes, I call them my former masters, because they were. I had to look at it that way to survive.” The others looked embarrassed and Ecthelion sighed. They didn’t understand. Coming back would be harder than he had thought.

“Herunya”, he turned to Aule because something else was weighing on his soul. “I know Mormirion incurred a lot of guilt, but he saved many of my people’s lives and my own, too. This”, he took a scroll from his bag, “is a list of signatures. We all want to advocate for Mormirion being treated with clemency.” He had walked from tent to tent yesterday and noted down where his people had found accommodation. He had asked them to sign his appeal.

Mormirion had been afraid when Aule’s Maia had come to take him, Ecthelion had seen it. He knew that Mormirion deserved a punishment, but he didn’t want the Valar to treat him like Morgoth’s other servants because they didn’t know he had been different. Asea Mahan. There hadn’t been many who hadn’t wanted to sign it. Aule stared at him in surprise.

“We’ll see”, he finally said and took the scroll. “I’ll take your opinion under consideration.” Ecthelion bowed. “That’s all I wanted to achieve with this, herunya. Thank you.” They turned back to questions of accommodation and rations. Ecthelion soon realised that they didn’t know what to call them and decided to talk with his people about it. He didn’t want to be called a ‘former slave’ for the rest of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Sharû walked restlessly along the street between the tents his men had been given. He wondered what Mo was doing just now. Had he been able to reconcile with his old master? He hadn’t seen him since they had surrendered to the Valar’s army. They had been ordered not to leave the perimeter, a rope had been spanned to indicate the border. He knew that the former slaves were patrolling – as much to keep them in as to keep other elves out.

Ecthelion had assured them that they wouldn’t be harmed. Sharû had been surprised at that. Yes, they had helped them to escape. Yes, they had tried to treat them decently. But they had still treated them like _slaves_. He couldn’t believe that it would be forgiven just like that.

A man stood on the road looking at Sharû. He was not one of the former slaves, he was sure of that. He was much too muscular and well-fed – and he wore a beard. “I’m looking for your commandant", he said when Sharû walked up to him. “That would be General Mormirion, Sir”, Sharû answered. “But in his absence, I’m next in command. Colonel Sharû, at your service.” He bowed. Who was that?

“I’m Aule.” The Vala nodded at him and chuckled at the look on his face. “You might have heard of me.” “Of course, herdir.” Sharû went to one knee, although the ground was muddy, and bowed his head. “Stand up, Colonel. Let’s walk a bit, I want to talk to you.” Sharû followed him dumbfounded. A Vala, and Mo’s former master at that, wanted to talk to him? He had been in the king’s bodyguard, he had taken orders from him, but he had never _talked_ to him.

“I admit, you are the first orc I’m having a conversation with. I wouldn’t have thought it possible to talk reasonably with your kind. And then you show up at the head of the freed slaves and those elves seem to be astonishingly well-disposed towards you. Ecthelion made it were clear that they won’t tolerate you being treated badly. Why is that? I don’t think they would be so sympathetic if it were only about the escape.”

Sharû shrugged slowly. “I can’t really say.” He laughed helplessly. “They should hate us, after everything we did. We tried to make life easier for them, but we still used our position of power to exploit them. But maybe... Ecthelion... he is alive because two of my men saved him out of a burning building and brought him to Mormirion. He knows that and he knows, too, that we gave a part of our pay to feed them better. Mormirion started it, but we supported him. Maybe elves are simply more forgiving?”

Aule barked a laugh. “I suppose you never had dealings with Feanor.” He stroked his beard and gave him a calculation look. “You say, you used your position of power.” It wasn't really a question, but Sharû still felt that the Vala expected an answer. Sharû winced, he wasn’t proud of that. “I know, what we did was wrong. I told myself that again and again, but I’m an orc, suppressing our urges is not our strong suit. After a battle, when the blood is stirred, or simply because a pretty elf is walking by.” Sharû shook his head. “That doesn’t sound favourable, does it?”

Aule was one of the people who would decide over his men’s life or death, Ecthelion’s men could protect them from other elves, but they surely wouldn’t fight the Valar’s judgement. He wished, he could leave a better impression. “You are honest”, Aule answered. “That’s worth a lot in my eyes.” Sharû hesitated when he realised that they came closer to the border of their camp. They were prisoners. Sharû and his men had given their word that they wouldn’t try to leave the camp.

“It’s fine. I’m with you.” “I’m not afraid”, Sharû said. “But I gave my word.” Aule nodded. “I didn’t want to insinuate that you are afraid. I know that you promised not to try to escape. That’s why I said: ‘I’m with you.’ I want you to come with me. You aren’t breaking your word.” “As you wish.” Sharû felt strange when he walked past the two elves who guarded the entrance. They greeted Aule with a bow, Sharû felt like they were watching him, he had lowered his head. He was ashamed of what he had done and he didn’t understand why they were so friendly.

“Sharû!” He lifted his head when he heard his name. An elf stood beside the road, a radiant smile on his face. He looked like he’d come directly from the woods and... Sharû stopped breathing. Could it be? “Estel?”, he whispered and the smile on the elf’s face became even wider. “Elen síla omentielwan, big brother.” Estel hugged him enthusiastically. “I thought I’d never see you again”, he said softly.

Sharû returned the embrace. Estel, his little brother, who had seemed so fragile to him once... he could feel his firm shoulder muscles under his hands. “Me, too.” Sharû felt tears in his eyes, he couldn’t remember when he’d cried the last time, but he was so happy. His feelings locked up his throat. His breathing became a sob. “How did you find me?”

“I heard someone say your name and hoped it was the same Sharû. Those two”, Estel motioned at the guard, “didn’t want to let me in. They seem to think I’d want you ill. Aule promised to bring you to me. I’ve been standing here a while.” Sharû looked to Aule who had walked a few paces to give them privacy. “Thank you”, he croaked and Aule smiled. “Your brother was very persuasive and, well, I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Because he is an elf? He _is_ my brother.” Sharû knew that he had a stupid smile on his face, but he couldn’t stop it, he was too happy. He didn’t even care that Aule had used Estel as bait to test his character. “I risked my life to help him to freedom. My whole family did.” More or less freely, but that wasn’t important. “How are they?”, Estel asked. He looked worried. He knew that soldiers didn’t live safely. “Zak and Ithrû are alive, but the others...” Sharû shook his head.

Estel gulped and wiped his eyes. “I... expected something like that. But it still hurts to hear it.” Sharû squeezed his shoulder. “They knew as well as me that every day could be our last. They were soldiers, that’s our life.” Or had been. The uncertainty about their future was a cold weight in his belly. “When I led you out, I did it in the hope that your life would be a better one.”

“The wood is dangerous, too.” Estel smiled wryly. “But yes, I lived a life that wouldn’t have been possible in Angband. You have to meet my family. My son... he has mother’s eyes.” “Your... your son?” Sharû stared at him. His little brother should be so grown up that he had a son? Estel grinned at him. “Yes. He is my pride and joy. My wife and me tried a long time.”

Sharû looked up to Estel, he’d been the taller even when he’d been a child. “Do they know...” Estel nodded. “I followed your advice. When I was taken by their guards because I stumbled through the wood, they thought I’d escaped from Angband – and that was true. But when I fell in love with my wife... it would have felt wrong to lie to her. A marriage shouldn’t be based on deception. She knows and her family, my family, knows, too. But father thought that the rest of the clan don’t need to know.”

Sharû frowned. He wasn’t sure if he liked Estel calling an elf ‘father’. They’d had a father and he'd loved them. Estel laid his hand on his shoulder. “I know what you think, but that’s how it is with the Laiquendi. When you marry into a family, you are the child of the parents of your spouse. It doesn’t mean I forgot our parents – or my siblings.”

“Forgive me, I don’t want to judge something that’s so foreign to me. I suppose, when I heard that you have family... I always wanted you to find your place, that you are happy, but... Maybe I’m a little jealous. You are _my_ little brother.” Estel laughed. “No one is going to challenge you for that, Sharû. Do you think, we could visit you in the future?”

“If your family really wants to?” Sharû was sceptical. “I’ll talk to Ecthelion so the guard will let you through.” The elf was visiting him regularly to hear if anything had happened. Most elves were hostile to them, and not all of the slaves they had freed shared Ecthelion's sentiment. Sharû understood that reaction much better than Ecthelion’s. Sharû turned back to Aule. “Forgive me for not giving due attention, herdir.”

Aule shrugged with a smile. “Family is more important, that’s how it should be. We’ll speak another time.” “Herdir?”, Sharû called when he turned away. “How is Mormirion?”, he asked hesitantly when Aule looked back at him. He was his friend, he needed to know what had happened to him. Aule frowned. “Mormirion betrayed me, he will have his punishment. But he is as well as can be expected.” Sharû wasn’t sure if he could be satisfied with this answer, but who was he to question a Vala? He said goodbye to Estel with another hug and walked back to his tent.

_Ecthelion’s shoulders ached, he had worked the bellows for hours. It went against the grain that he had to help forge weapons and armour for his enemies, but he had learned the hard way that it was foolish to resist. He had tried to refuse to work when he had first come here. The guards had tied him to a post and whipped him until his back was bleeding._

_He had been unconscious when they’d untied him, hadn’t noticed how the men he shared a hut with had carried him home. When he had woken, they had fed him with gruel. Food they scrimped and saved for him. That was when he had realised that he would only make it harder for his fellow slaves if he rebelled. He had only the choice to die or comply – he wasn’t ready for death and so he worked, even if it went against his honour._

_Honour! Ecthelion huffed. That didn’t matter here, not for elves. He heard agitated voices from one of the alleys and quickened his step despite his exhaustion. Ecthelion started to run when he saw that one of the huts had collapsed. A few elves were already busy clearing away the broken boards, a woman was held back by two others._

_“My child!”, she sobbed. “My girl!” Ecthelion looked at the pile of rubble surrounded by a cloud of dust. If her daughter had been in there... there was little hope that she still lived. Ecthelion accepted a beam that was handed down to him, his muscles protesting painfully, and looked around. Other elves were coming to help, but it didn’t seem as if someone was organising them._

_The beam he was holding looked good enough to use again. He put him aside, the beginning of a pile that could be used to build a new hut. But first it was important to find the child. “Watch out that nothing slides down”, he called up. “We don’t want to hurt the child!” It was evening, they were all exhausted._

_“Let me take a look. I was a builder”, an elf said and climbed carefully on the pile of rubble. More and more people showed up to help. Ecthelion had surprised this solidarity, they were worked to complete exhaustion, but if someone needed help, they didn’t even need to ask. Ecthelion nodded at the builder and separated the helpers into groups._

_He stopped when five orcs walked over. Usually they allowed them to manage things like this themselves, but who could know what was going on in their heads. “We are here to help.” The orc’s voice was dark and a little rough, but he sounded friendly. “We are off duty and you seem to could use a few hands more.”_

_Ecthelion hesitated for a moment. He mustn’t give them orders, or anything that might sound like it. He didn’t want to be punished for it later. “Thank you.” Ecthelion forced himself to bow a little. “If two of you could climb up and the others could take the beams, it would be much help for us.” The orcs were simply stronger than them._

_They nodded and didn’t seem to be bothered about the glances the other slaves were throwing a them. Ecthelion helped to separate still useable wood from rubble that had to be thrown away. They worked silently, none of them had enough reserves to work and talk at the same time. Ecthelion wiped sweat from his brow and groaned, the remains of the house didn’t seem to grow less._

_Suddenly one of the orcs bowed down and seemed to reach into a cavity. The girl’s mother cried out when the orc lifted a dusty child out of the hole. She seemed dazed but Ecthelion didn’t see blood. He smiled when the orc gave the girl to her mother and she hugged the child with tears in his eyes. To his surprise the orc had a smile on his face, too, as if he were happy for her – a slave. Ecthelion shook his head, he hadn’t time to think about that now._

_He leaned against the wall of a hut that didn’t look much more solid than the one they had just disassembled. The rubble had been carried away, the still useable parts piled in the open area. It was so late that it was almost morning. Ecthelion yawned and closed his eyes for a moment. The thought of having to work in a few hours made him feel faintly sick._

_He sniffed, was he hallucinating or did it smell of fresh bread? His mouth was watering. Ecthelion opened his eyes again and winced when he saw the orc standing in front of him, offering a small loaf of bread. He took it warily. Did the orc expect something in return? The bread was still warm and smelled heavenly._

_"Today we share our breakfast with you. A gift, no strings attached.” “Thank you.” Ecthelion bit into the warm bread and sighed appreciatively. It tasted wonderful and he was so very hungry. The orc nodded at him and turned away. Ecthelion looked around, saw that the helpers were slowly scattering and stumbled to his own bed. He wanted to use the two or three hours before the drums would wake them._

Ecthelion woke with the smell of fresh bread in his nose, maybe that was why he had had that dream. He stretched with a groan and rubbed his face, his scars were itching. He shouldn’t scratch, it only made it worse, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. He rolled over on his cot and rummaged around his pouch. A healer had given him an ointment against the itching.

When they had come to the camp, their injured had been examined. He had insisted that he didn’t need it, the wounds were long healed and others were more injured from the fights, but the healer had been persistent and the ointment was helping. They had given him his own tent, although room was scarce, but he was Ecthelion of Gondolin – he didn’t like this special treatment either.

He almost had forgotten how it was to be a nobleman. The orcs hadn’t known and for the other slaves he and been an equal. He didn’t want the people he had sweated and bled with suddenly bowing to him. He wasn’t that anymore. Ecthelion stood up and girded his sword. _His_ sword, the weapon Mormirion had given to him, forged by Sauron.

Maybe he should have been repulsed to wear a weapon made by their worst enemy after Morgoth, but that wasn’t what he felt. It was an excellent weapon, perfectly balanced. It really felt like a part of his arm when he used it. It would feel good to spar with someone again who didn’t want him dead. Grief stabbed at his heart when he remembered that most of his friends had probably fallen in Gondolin. Not that he knew anything specific, he hadn’t had time yet to search for survivors.

Ecthelion decided to follow the smell of bread, he was hungry. It was early, but he had gotten used to a daily routine where he got up before the sun (if the sun was visible at all) and although there should always be someone awake in an army, it was still silent between the tents. He knew where the kitchen tent for this part of the camp stood and the smell got stronger when he came closer. His belly rumbled. He knew that he wouldn’t need to go hungry now that he was free, but his instincts were set on getting food.

They were baking over open fire and they probably had been at it for quite a while. Baking bread was women’s work and usually it was lembas when they were travelling, but the loafs that lay cooling on tables were real bread. Ecthelion gulped and lay his hand on his growling belly. One of the women waved at him and smiled. Ecthelion thought he saw pity in her eyes.

“You are one of the... the people saved from Angband, aren’t you?”, she said gently. “Come in. Do you want some bread?” Ecthelion’s belly was of the opinion that he could have eaten a whole loaf. “Yes, thank you. I’m Ecthelion”, he introduced himself. “Oh, I hear about you.” Before he could stop her, she curtseyed to him.

“I’m Maksaril, herdir.” Ecthelion smiled. “I’m not ‘herdir’. Where I come from, birth counts for nothing.” She looked surprised and Ecthelion wondered what exactly she had heard about him. He _had_ been vain, for good reason as he had thought. And how he had prided himself on his title and closeness to the king. Ecthelions shook his head. “I’d be much obliged if you could give me some of your bread, Maksaril, but I can wait until breakfast.”

“Nonsense, you don’t have to wait.” She tested the crust of a few loafs before deciding on one and cut off three slices. “Do you want butter?” “If it is no trouble?” Ecthelion didn’t want to attract attention, but their conversation had already been noticed by the other bakers and while Maksaril went to get the butter from the tent they dared to come closer.

“Is it really true that _orcs_ helped you to escape?”, one of them asked. Ecthelion nodded slowly. “You see...”, he said slowly, “they knew that the war was lost and they didn’t want to kill us as they were ordered to do. I think, we owe them a minimum of decency.” Ecthelion was aware that Sharû and his men would likely have been killed, if they hadn’t protested against that. You didn’t take orcs prisoners, it made no sense, orcs were evil beyond redemption. At least that was the popular belief among elves and he had thought that, too, once.

‘You can’t let your relatives starve', Sharû had said. Relatives. Ecthelion had never before thought about it that way. Of course he knew how orcs had been made, everyone knew that, but it had been abstract knowledge. Now...

Maksaril brought the butter and Ecthelion dug into his breakfast. He had thought, he knew what hunger was, he had crossed the ice, but they’d had supplies and they had come from Aman. The hunger in Angband had been worse. “But they are so ugly...”, he heard one of the bakers mumble and looked up. “And so they have to be evil?” Ecthelion touched his scared cheek and wondered what she might think about him. “Ugliness is no sign for a black heart.”

He had seen Sauron from afar once and the beauty of the Maia had taken his breath away. And he knew comrades who were far more disfigured than him, by torture or accident, but it didn’t change their nature. He took a bite of his bread before he could say something insulting. He knew that most elves tended to equal beauty with goodness.

“So you think they are harmless?” Maksaril frowned. “I think it reckless to let them life in the camp.” “I believe they won’t risk to anger anyone. They have a sense of right and wrong and they know that there are people who would like to have them killed. We guard them, they don’t leave their camp.” He didn’t say that he trusted Sharû’s word, that would count little for them.

“But you fought them. They were enemies. My husband was killed by an orc!” One of the women had tears in her eyes and Ecthelion gulped. He had lost so many friends. Yes, why was he ready to forgive what had happened? “I’m tired of repaying wrong with wrong. This war was awful but Morgoth is a prisoner now, it is over.

These orcs saved our lives, it doesn’t undo the wrong they did, but it gives them the right for a second chance. They are different from us, but not _that_ different, they just had a bad king and so often no choice.” To say it out loud felt good, it was what he believed. The women looked incredulous, but they didn't argue with him and Ecthelion ate his bread in silence and thanked them for it when he left. He knew it would take a lot of effort to change the way the people thought about orcs.


	3. Chapter 3

“Aeg!” Ecthelion turned around when his nickname was called. It was shortly after sunrise, he’d walked a short distance away from the camp but still inside the circle of sentinels to watch the sun rise, he’d missed that in Angband. The smile he gave Matil froze on his lips when he saw his face. One of his eyes was swollen shut and his knuckles were skinned and bloody. “What happened?”

“An idiot of a Vanya had the nerve to tell me it is dishonourable of me to be alive", Matil growled. “So I taught him a lesson in courtesy.” He grinned. “If you think, I look bad you should see him.” Ecthelion grimaced. It wasn’t the first time that cruel, disparaging comments were aimed at his people and he feared that sooner or later it would come to drawn weapons. He needed to take care of this before something really bad - like a fourth kinslaying - happened.

“We have to talk, Matil.” They were spread across the whole camp, wherever there had been free spaces in tents. “All the spokespersons, I mean. Can you help me to drum them up? We’ll meet an hour after midday.” Ecthelion bit his lower lip. They had no place to meet without drawing attention and he didn’t want to leave the camp. It wasn’t safe. Just because ‘their’ orcs had turned out to be quite decent, that didn’t mean all of them were like this and there were still scattered units around here.

“We’ll meet at the orc camp.” Sharû’s men at least wouldn’t retell what they had talked about. “Do you have a list? I admit, I lost sight of who is where in this giant camp.” Ecthelion nodded and lifted the tent flap. “Come in.” Matil looked around enviously. “I sleep with four other elves in a tent that’s not much bigger than yours. Has to be the reputation.” He winked at him. Ecthelion grimaced. “Don’t remind me of that. They want Ecthelion, hero of Gondolin, but I can’t be that if my people need to fight for their honour.”

He even had a folding desk – and a feeling that he would need it. Yes, he had expected that the _orcs_ would be eyed warily, but he hadn’t calculated on his people being judged for being alive. Did these idiots even know what an achievement that was? Ecthelion took a deep breath and relaxed his fists. He quickly copied one half of the list he had luckily remembered to make when they had been split up. “Those are yours, I’ll take care of the other half. Thank you.” Matil shrugged. “I need something to do, anyway, it's boring to sit around all day. See you.”

Ecthelion waved after him and set off. The slave quarters had been decrepit but originally they had been built after a plan in tidy squares. They had met in secret, each square had a speaker. Ecthelion wasn’t so sure anymore, if it really had been a secret or if their overseers had just looked the other way. He hadn’t intended to be their leader, but after it had gotten around who he was they had almost pushed it on him.

Of course there were other former officers among them, the Nirnaeth had demanded a high price, not only in death, but he had a big name – because of the part they had played at the Nirnaeth but although because of the things he had done in the battle for Gondolin. The names of the heads of the houses very synonymous to courage.

Ecthelion didn’t think he deserved their veneration, others had done much braver things, others hadn’t hidden in the mountains for decades. And he wasn’t the only one by far who’d killed balrogs. But he knew his reputation and status would lend him the ear of Finarfin and he had a feeling they’d have to take any advantage they could get. He wouldn’t let his people down.

He’d had no time to find himself something for lunch between notifying the spokespersons and hoped that the orcs would share their meal with him. Ecthelion greeted the guards at the entrance with a nod. He was worried. The short conversations with them had been not what he’d expected.

Fairdal had just waited for the right moment to tell him that he and most of the Laiquendi intended to leave sooner than later. It should have relieved Ecthelion, a few hundred elves less to worry about, but it was still disturbing to see how quickly things like what kin you belonged to began to matter again – it had not mattered in Angband.

He found Sharû beside the serving counter. He looked grim and Ecthelion got the feeling that he stood there to keep the peace, but he smiled a little when he saw him. “Ecthelion. I wanted to talk to you.” “Likewise.” Ecthelion pointed at the cauldron. “Can I exploit your hospitality first?” “Be my guest.” Sharû grinned and Ecthelion got the feeling that he held back a joke at his cost. The cook wasn’t so restrained.

“Well, elf, are you sure that you want this? Who knows what I put in there?” Ecthelion grinned back. “As I know that you get the same rations as the rest of the army and I don’t miss any of my people standing guard, I expect it’s safe to eat.” Ecthelion swallowed a spoonful of stew to illustrate his opinion.

He never had believed the rumours anyway. Orcs might dine on elf now and then, although he wasn’t so sure about that either, but they wouldn’t feed such meat to slaves. He hadn’t seen a lot of meat in his time in Angband and when they got something, it usually was as tough as old boots. Surely not elf. Ecthelion winked at the cook and turned back to Sharû, bowl in hand.

“I need a place to talk to my people and I don’t want someone listening. I thought I could borrow your open space.” Sharû lifted his eyebrow. “You trust us?” Ecthelion shrugged. “Let’s say, I trust you not to talk to strangers – and that they wouldn’t believe you anyway.” Sharû laughed. “True. What’s it about? If I may ask.”

“Several things.” Ecthelion sighed. “I hoped it would be easier to come back, but I fear we have a long way before us. But what did you want from me?” "I just wanted to ask you to tell your guards to let my brother and his family in.” “Your brother?” Ecthelion stared at him. “Might be I have a brother who looks like an elf.” Sharû shrugged. “He escaped from Angband centuries ago.”

‘And who helped him with that, I wonder?’, Ecthelion thought, sensing a story, and nodded. “I’ll see to it.” “Thank you.” Sharû smiled this unsettling smile that showed off his teeth. He looked more like wolf who was baring his fangs. Did he realise that? Ecthelion decided not to comment on it, he _liked_ Sharû, he didn’t want to insult him. It wasn’t so hard to imagine him as an elf, despite the teeth.

Ecthelion looked at the list he was assembling of elves that wanted to stay in Middle-Earth, it was quickly getting longer. Many Nandor and Laiquendi wanted to go back to their woods. Fairdal had already prepared him for that. What Ecthelion hadn’t expected was that many Noldor intended to stay, too. Gil-galad had told him that he would stay to rule those of them who didn’t follow the Valar’s call, and they wanted to follow him.

Ecthelion didn’t understand why anyone would want to stay, but then, he had lived in Gondolin and it had been a memory of Tirion before anything else. He had realised many years ago, even before his captivity, that it had been a mistake to leave Aman. He wanted to go back home, he had expected that at least those of them who were Noldor, would share that sentiment.

After the bureaucracy was done, he put the list away and took a deep breath. "We need to talk about the position we intend to adopt in regard to the orcs. I don't know about you, but I think we could do something good here." “Do you really want to help them?”, Tarilanya asked, not able to hide her amazement. “Mormirion is one thing”, she said, they all had signed the paper he had given to Aule, asking for clemency for the Maia who had saved their lives, “but they are still orcs.”

“Relatives. We all know how their ancestors, or even some of them, came to be.” Ecthelion looked at the other spokesmen and –women. “Some of them began their lives in a slave shack. Relatives.” “I can’t believe that you want to forgive them like that.” Matil shook his head, his black eye had drawn some worried questions. Ecthelion had done his best to reassure his people, he needed to talk to Finarfin about the attitude of some of the free elves.

“They weren’t as bad as some others", Matil continued, "but they still forced us to work for the enemy. Raped us! Ecthelion, I know you sometimes offered yourself to achieve things. Has anyone ever declined your offer? Can you just forget that? Because I can’t! I won't forgive it.” “I can.” Ecthelion looked at Tarilanya. She was from Gondolin, too, she knew how he'd been.

“Because I never declined such an offer either. You know me, Tarilanya, you knew me before the Fall. I might not have forced anyone, but I didn’t have to! It didn’t even cross my mind that someone wouldn’t want Ecthelion. How many, do you think, felt used by me afterwards?” “Aeg”, she said gently and embraced him. “You can’t compare that.” “No?” Ecthelion leaned his forehead against hers. “I _know_ some of them came to my bed for a gain. And I thought I had a right to it. After all, I was handsome and powerful and...”

“Shh.” Tarilanya laid her fingers to his lips and Ecthelion realised that he was shaking. She looked at him with worry in her eyes. “You really believe that, do you? That you weren’t so different from them?” “And it took the loss of my freedom, my power, my beauty, to change me.” Tarilanya kissed his burned cheek. “There were times, I cursed you”, she said. “But in Angband... it changed us, you are right about that. And you _are_ beautiful – in here.” She laid her hand over his heart.

“And Sharû and his men are, too”, Ecthelion said. “They just need a chance to prove it.” He turned back to the others, a little embarrassed to have laid his insecurities so open before them, but he pushed the feeling aside. They had a right to know that he hadn’t been the shining hero, the stories made of him. Alandur coughed and said: “So you think we should forgive them.”

“Forgiveness doesn’t happen just like that.” Ecthelion snapped his fingers. “Or because I or someone else tells you to. But there's this: I’m Noldo, like many of you. I’m told we were pardoned and that the Teleri at least forgave us enough to sail those ships. I'm grateful for that, we'll see what happens once we are back in Aman. Why not give those orcs the same? I think we should allow them to prove themselves. Give them a chance to life in peace for the first time. I don’t tell you to put all resentment behind you, they were soldiers, they killed people we knew. But they didn’t kill _us_ when the order came.

They didn’t give in to the hatred that was drilled into them. They proved already that what was told to us – that orcs can’t be reformed – is wrong. And are we not Noldor?” He winked at them. “Aren’t you curious? Their language that is not quite ancient Quenya. And a history we know nothing about. Did you notice that some of the orcs wear maenais similar to those of the Nandor? Personally, I’d like to know if they have music. Aren’t we scholars anymore?”

He could see that he had caught their hearts with that. Yes, they had been slaves. They had been forced to forge weapons, weave chain mail, mine ore and thousand other tasks for war. And yes, some of them had been weapons smiths and soldiers before, but not most of them. He had reminded them that they weren’t captives anymore.

“Our children, those who know only Angband”, he said with a look at Sinthur, who had such a son, “we’ll show them how it is to really live. And our lost relatives deserve that, too.” “You are right”, Tarilanya said softly. “And if only to be better than them. We aren’t orcs. We don’t treat prisoners like dirt." "I don't see what we could do anyway", said Sinthur. "The Valar are going to judge what to do with them." "But it will be our testimonies they'll hear. Let's vote. Who wants to give the orcs a chance?" Ecthelion was relieved when almost three-fourths of them lifted their hands.

When Ecthelion left the camp later, two elves with a child stood at the entrance. “This is Sharû’s brothers with wife and child”, the guard told Ecthelion and he had nodded in confirmation. He'd already told them to let them in. The boy looked at him with amber eyes – Sharû’s eyes.

Ecthelion was walking back to his tent after the meeting when he caught a familiar face. “Egalmoth?”, he called at the elf on the other side of the road. At least one of them had survived in freedom. “I’m so glad to see you here!” His smile froze when he saw the look on Egalmoth’s face.

“Ecthelion... what did they do to you?” Egalmoth sounded shocked. “It was an accident.” Ecthelion touched his cheek. He was already starting to loathe how everyone reminded him of it – reduced him to his looks. “It was no one’s fault.” Egalmoth shook his head. “I already heard that your kind has strange opinions of orcs.”

“My kind?” Ecthelion narrowed his eyes. Egalmoth was... well, Egalmoth. Sure that his opinions were the only reasonable ones and very conscious of status. Had he really been like this once, too? Ecthelion cringed inwardly. “They are elves, just like you, they simply need a little time to ease back into being free. And those orcs saved our lives. They deserve a second chance.” Ecthelion saw the incomprehension in Egalmoth’s eyes.

“They are enemies, Ecthelion!” “No.” Ecthelion shook his head. “Not anymore. The war is over and they don’t want to fight us.” “Is that so?” Egalmoth visibly bit down on something he wanted to say. “I don’t intend to fight with you, Ecthelion, not now.” He took a deep breath and patted his shoulder. “Welcome back, my friend, I'm glad you are alive. Come with me, my tent ins two streets over there. Let’s share a bottle, like in the old times, hm?”

Ecthelion forced himself to smile and nodded. In the old times... He was starting to feel like he wouldn’t be able to go back there. Angband hadn’t just changed how he looked.

“So you really were a slave.” Egalmoth looked at him uneasily after he’d filled his glass. “Like Rog?” “Rog’s darker horror stories were all true”, Ecthelion answered with a croak in his voice. He didn’t want to talk about this with Egalmoth. He’d never gotten along that well with Rog, but just now he’d have liked to have him to talk to instead of his old friend.

They’d known each other since childhood, the two of them and Glorfindel – Ecthelion swallowed down his tears at the memory of his dead friend. They had walked around Tirion like they owned it, partied together, seduced men and women. Until Glorfindel had fallen in love with Mablung. Mablung...

Ecthelion hadn’t often been forced to serve in the throne room – after the explosion he hadn’t been pretty enough for the Maiar – but he had seen Mablung a few times, long enough to recognise him. Long enough to see the marks on his body. Everyone in Angband knew about Morgoth’s sick desires and everyone in Angband knew that Mablung somehow managed to bear it.

If he’d have known that the boy would have to be Morgoth’s slave one day, he’d have been nicer. What did it matter that he was ‘only’ a commoner? Glorfindel had been so in love with him. He should have accepted that. Ecthelion had already tried to find him in the camp, he would have liked to apologise. He hadn’t been with those who Mormirion and the orcs had freed, of course, but Morgoth was here – a prisoner – and he had hoped that Mablung was free, too.

Ecthelion realised that his mind had wandered and he had no idea what Egalmoth had said. “I’m sorry”, he said and rubbed his forehead. “I have so many things on my mind.” “Why do you saddle yourself with it, anyway? I can understand that you feel responsible for the slaves. But those orcs? They aren’t your problem. If you ask me, they should have been killed immediately.”

“They saved our lives!”, Ecthelion snapped at him, his ire rising. “And are we like this? Do we kill people who surrendered?” “They are orcs, Ecthelion!” Egalmoth stared at him. “Enemies. Murderers.” “And how many orcs did you kill, Egalmoth? It was war. Of course we were enemies, but that’s Morgoth’s fault. These people, Sharû and his men, some of them look more like elves. I just saw Sharû’s brother. You wouldn’t believe he has orcs for parents! Do you want to condemn them for obeying their king?

They were trained to hate us from childhood, just like ever elvenchild will tell you that orcs are evil. Sharû himself says that the younger generations got the compassion bred out of them, that they can’t feel anything but hate and anger. Maybe these really can’t be helped, but I’m sure that Sharû’s people can live in peace with us, if we give them a chance.” Egalmoth shook his head. “You’re crazy, Ecthelion. Look at your face!”

“My face”, Ecthelion growled, “is my own business. It was an accident that could have happened to our smiths, too.” Egalmoth grumbled something and Ecthelion narrowed his eyes. “We are friends, Egalmoth, we’ve been friends our whole life, but you haven’t been in Angband, I was. You don’t have the right to tell me what I have to believe or feel.”

“No? Maybe that’s what a friend does, if you act like you lost your mind!” Egalmoth took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Sorry. You are right of course, that I have no idea what you experienced in there. It just makes me so angry to see how the orcs are protected after our people gave their blood so not more of us had to share your fate.”

“And their fate? Their ancestors were elves, Egalmoth. Can you imagine that? Being tortured until nothing of you is left? Until you become something totally different?” Egalmoth shuddered. “I don’t want to think of that.” “See? And that’s the problem. Most elves try not to think of that dark chapter in our past, but it happened and the result are the orcs. Most of them might be lost forever, but as long as there is a small possibility that a few of them might be saved, I’ll do everything in my power to help them.”

Egalmoth emptied his glass and quickly refilled it. "Fine, I can see that you won't budge." "Won't you fill me in on what happened to the survivors after the battle? I know Earendil is the new star but not much else." Egalmoth sighed. "I fear it's not a nice tale, bt if you really want to hear it." Ecthelion nodded. "Tell me. I need to know. Glorfindel..." "Died killing a balrog, protecting us all." Egalmoth took a deep breath. "And we ran."

Sharû looked up when the tent flap was pushed back. “Are we coming inconveniently?” Estel smiled at him and Sharû stood up. “Not at all.” He embraced his brother and patted his back. So Ecthelion had kept his word. “May I introduce my wife? Raywen, this is my brother Sharû.” She smiled at him, but her eyes were wary when she shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Sharû squeezed her hand gently. “I’m happy to have the chance to meet you, too, Raywen. Especially as I didn’t think I’d see Estel ever again when I got him out.” Raywen smiled. “I remember when father came home from a hunt, telling about the stranger they had found stumbling through the woods like an angry bear. We were a little wary of him, as you might imagine.” Sharû grinned.

“I didn’t think he had the weight to sound like a bear. Come in. And who is this?” The boy had hidden behind his mother and watched him mistrustfully – with eyes like Sharû’s. “That’s Tantareita, our son.” Estel laid his hand on the boy’s back. “Say hello to your uncle, Tan.” The little elf mumbled something, looking shyly at his feet. Sharû crouched down before him and offered his hand.

“Hello, Tantareita”, he said gently. The boy’s hand vanished in his own, he gave him a quick smile before hiding behind his mother again. Sharû smiled wryly. “I suppose I’m not a very comforting appearance.” “You are for me”, Estel patted his arm. “Always were. I never forgot what you did for me. You said, Ithrû is here?” Sharû nodded. “I can call for him.”

But he didn’t need to. Before Sharû could step out of the tent to send someone to search for Ithrû, he already came in. “Estel!” They embraced each other laughing. “I always knew we’d meet again, but the how is still surprising.” Ithrû looked up into his brother’s face. “I almost forgot how tall you are.” Estel grinned and slapped his shoulder. “I’ve seen dwarves that were taller than you.”

“You are _twins_?” Raywen’s gaze shot back and forth between them and Sharû laughed. No, they really didn’t resemble each other. “At least that’s what we were told.” Estel winked at her. “So it must be true.” Ithrû growled. “Stop that! You _know_ we are twins. We can feel it.” Estel became serious again and embraced Ithrû. “Of course, brother. I was just joking.”

“You elves believe that twins share a soul, don’t you?”, Sharû said to Raywen. “Those two surely do, although they don’t look alike.” Raywen cocked her head and watched the brothers closely. “Maybe you are right, Sharû.” She smiled shyly at him. “I’m happy that Estel found his family. He missed you very much, he often told me about his parents and siblings.” “He did?”

Raywen nodded. “He thought it would be dishonourable to not tell me who he is, when I started to court him.” Sharû lifted his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?” Raywen’s smile became a grin. “Usually it is, but in our case I took matters in hand. We still wouldn’t be married if I hadn’t.” Sharû saw Estel blush and laughed. He liked Raywen.


	4. Chapter 4

Ecthelion bowed to the king. Finarfin looked as if he didn’t feel comfortable in his armour and Ecthelion wasn’t surprised. Finarfin had never been a warrior. He was a scholar and a patron of the fine arts, he never had had much to do with swords. That he was here now – despite everything – proved how important this war had been. And he could hardly stay back when the Valar went to war to save his people.

“You asked to see me, Ecthelion? How may I help you and... your people.” “Thank you for seeing me, Your Majesty. And, if you allow, we decided to call ourselves ‘Angband-Elves’.” It was a strange way to avoid being called ‘slaves’ by putting the place where they had been enslaved into their endonym, but it was what all of them had in common. They belonged together because they had been there.

“Angband-Elves.” Finarfin nodded slowly. “As you wish, Ecthelion. You asked for this conversation, what can I do for you?” “First, I want to thank you for the support you gave us. It is a little cramped but at least all of us have a roof over our heads and decent clothes.”

Ecthelion took a deep breath. There was no possibility to approach the point tactfully but they needed to talk about it. Now, before something bad happened. “My people tell me of insults being called at them. It’s usually about not choosing to leave our life behind. That we let ourselves be used for... for the sexual pleasure of our masters.”

Ecthelion hated that his voice trembled at the words. He wasn’t traumatised. He’d had sex with so many people, a few more didn’t matter. If he didn’t dwell on it having happened against his will, it was bearable. “Not all of us left Angband with an unharmed soul. I can fight with words and if I have to, with weapons, but not all of us can. They went through hell and it is cruel to shun them for it. It seem to be mostly Vanyar who think like that, but I’ve heard about Noldor, too.”

Finarfin nodded with earnest, sad eyes. How long did he know that almost his whole family was dead?, Ecthelion wondered. And he didn’t only need to think of the Angband-Elves, there were all those exiled Noldor who were allowed to go home now. It would disturb Tirion more than a little. “I’ll talk to Ingwion and I’ll let my officers know that I don’t tolerate insults to your people.”

Ecthelion bowed again. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Finarfin shook his head. “I should apologise to you. It should be clear that you have to be treated with kindness, not insults. Ecthelion, a question?” “Of course, Your Majesty.” “Some of _my_ officers are worried about those orcs. They think it could be a plan to attack us unawares. And I know they vowed to not leave the perimeter, but what is the vow of an orc worth?”

Ecthelion sighed. “Five hundred orcs against all of us? That would be a desperate plan and they know we won the war. No, I’m sure that they don’t want to harm us. They have honour, they won’t break their vow.” Finarfin held his gaze for a moment. “I will trust you in this”, he finally said. “And I hope you are not proven wrong. In any case, it’s the Valar who are going to have to decide what to do with them.”

Ecthelion hoped fervently that the Valar wouldn’t make a decision based on their wrath for Morgoth. All he could do was wait and speak his mind whenever it was necessary.

Aule was waiting in his tent. Ecthelion froze in his motions, halfway through the entrance. The Vala sat on his folding chair and smiled at him. “Have you been waiting for long?”, Ecthelion asked and closed the flap behind him. “Not that long. You are hard to find, Ecthelion.” “I’m very busy. My people have needs and Sharû’s men, too.”

“Has he told you about his brother?” “You know about him?” Ecthelion was surprised. He hadn't expected Aule to take that much interest in the orcs. “I met him at the orc camp. Your guards didn’t want to let him in, so I brought Sharû to him. To be honest, I wanted to see how Sharû would react.” “He passed the test, I suppose?” Ecthelion grimaced, but he realised that this hadn’t been the last test of their temperament, Sharû and the other orcs would have to pass. He wasn’t naive.

“You could say that, yes. But that’s not why I’m here. Can you talk about Angband?” “Why?” Ecthelion shuddered. He didn’t like to think of the nastier things that had happened to him. “Because I have a Maia in my tent who’s almost withering with regret. I have to know how I should treat him.” “I gave you that list. I think that shows how we think you should treat him.”

“Yes, but it’s easier to put your signature on a piece of paper when others have done it before – especially if you don’t have to directly deal with the consequences. And... I don’t want to insult you, but do you know the term ‘slave sickness’?” Ecthelion gritted his teeth. He’d have liked to waive this, but he knew that it was real. He had felt it, too. He shuddered again, but Aule had to hear it.

“I’ll tell you something about slave sickness, herunya. Yes, it can happen, but it goes away again, too. I’d not been long in Angband, and I was looking like it. I’d been a leader all my life, I wasn’t ready to bow. A few orcs decided to put me in my place. Any soldier could take a slave. It were three of them and they had me for two weeks, every night after work.

Sometimes I was in so much pain that I didn’t know how I should manage to get up in the morning. One of them was a bit gentler, he gave me water and a bit of his own rations. He’d stroke my hair afterwards. I don’t know why he did it, but after those two weeks, I felt... drawn to him. I wasn’t _in love,_ but I had a hard time not to feel sorry when he didn’t come back for me. It took a few weeks for me to think normal again.

And that happened when I’d been there for barely a year. Now imagine how it has to be for someone who was born in Angband, or been a slave for long, or maybe even has a child of an orc. It isn’t a sign of weakness, I want to say. And concerning Mormirion: He helped us, saved the lives of many of us – mine, too.” Ecthelion touched his cheek and Aule nodded slowly. “And now he has saved _all_ our lives. We would have been killed if he hadn’t decided to go against his orders and help us to escape.

I don’t know him well, Mormirion I mean. When he treated my wounds, I was unconscious most of the time. But I imagine he didn’t like much how it was in Angband. He tried to make our lives better.” “He gifted you his sword, didn’t he?” Ecthelion nodded. “He said, I'd earned it.” He smiled wryly. “Do you want to see it?”

“If you don’t mind.” Ecthelion took it from its peg on the tent pole. He thought it more sensible to not walk around armed – he might forget his own advice at an insult. Aule pulled the sword from its sheath and weighed it in his hand. “Maybe...” He shook his head. “Do you know that the one you call Sauron escaped?”

Ecthelion shivered. “What? No, I didn’t know that.” “And it would be better if it weren’t on everyone’s lips.” Aule looked uneasy. “Maybe I could find him with this, he forged it, after all. Do you think you could lend it to me? You’ll get it back, of course.” “Take it. Anything to find him”, Ecthelion said without hesitation. He really didn’t want Sauron to walk free.

Sharû heard the fight before he saw it. Two of his men were fighting, rolling on the floor and dealing out punches and a few of the orcs who were watching seemed inclined to join in. Sharû could understand it. They were bored and the fact that no one knew what the future would bring didn’t make the tension better. But he couldn’t tolerate it.

“Separate these idiots!”, he snapped at the spectators and soon looked into the bloody faces of Ardnaz and Lugursh. “Kitchen duty for a month”, he barked at them. “And be glad that I don’t have the means to punish you properly. I won’t suffer quarrel under my command. I thought, I’d made that clear a long time ago!” “But, Sir!” Lugursh fell silent when Sharû glowered at him.

“No!” Sharû turned to the soldiers standing around. “I know you are frustrated. I know you fear for your life. Believe me, I feel the same, but we are at the mercy of these people. They are biased and some of it is true. We have to prove to them that we can be civilised. We have to be on our best behaviour.” He had to talk to Ecthelion, it couldn't go on like this, he needed some way to keep his men occupied Not that he really thought that they would be allowed weapons – even practice weapons – but at least he had to try.

Ecthelion stared at the orc. “You can't be serious! Can you imagine the uproar it will cause if I _arm_ you? Not to mention that I don’t have weapons I could share. And to be honest, I wouldn’t feel comfortable either. It's too much, Sharû.” “We won’t hurt anyone.” Ecthelion looked hard at Sharû but then he sighed. “I believe you”, he said. “You gave your word and I believe you, but I can’t do this.”

Sharû nodded in understanding. “I didn’t expect you could, but I had to ask. My men are restless. They are soldiers, Ecthelion. Do you know what happens to soldiers who have no task? They start to fight against each other.” Ecthelion rubbed his neck. “I’ll think about it.” Of course he knew that soldiers who were bored got into mischief, that wasn’t only the case with orcs.

There were a lot of former soldiers among the Angband-Elves, captives of the many battles. Maybe... The idea was absurd, but then, why not? He would talk to a few of them and maybe something would come of his crazy idea. They had been enemies, but that didn’t need to remain the case. Ecthelion scrutinised Sharû. He would have to lead by example and Sharû was the highest ranking orc. Ecthelion grinned. It might even be fun to pit himself against him.

Sharû stood with his men on the square they had made between the tents. It was too small for all of them, the back rows stood between the tents, but he couldn’t change that. Ecthelion had asked him to muster his men, he had a ‘surprise’ for them. In Sharû’s experience, surprises were nothing good, but the elf hadn’t looked like he wanted them ill.

He looked at the sky to gauge time. It was a good day, overcast, even those of his men who reacted sensitive to the sun wouldn’t have problems today. He hoped, Ecthelion wouldn’t make them wait for too long, they were tense enough.

He heard them before he could see them. His men fidgeted, when their former slaves came in sight, but Ecthelion knew what he was doing. The elves could have looked threatening in their armour, taken from Angband’s armoury, but Ecthelion didn’t make them march in formation. They came strolling up the main road. And what they were carrying... Baskets with practice weapons. Sharû grinned, so it hadn’t been so wrong to ask him after all!

Ecthelion stopped a few paces away from him. “Colonel Sharû.” Sharû didn’t know what rank Ecthelion had held, but he had been a Lord of Gondolin. “Lord Ecthelion of the Fountain.” A smile came to Ecthelion’s lips. “You wanted to practice. My people need exercise, too. The weapons are lent so it would be good if nothing broke. And I hope that it is clear that seriously hurting each other is undesirable.”

Ecthelion looked around. “As we are a lot of people and the room is limited, I suggest we split into groups who can spar in turn.” He pulled one of the swords from a basked that stood beside him and greeted Sharû with it. “Do me the honour, Colonel?” Sharû couldn’t hide his wide grin. “With pleasure, Lord Ecthelion.” He took his time choosing a weapon until he found one that felt good in his hands.

He was sure that Ecthelion hadn’t chosen his sword at random, he must have known were in the basket it was. He knew that everyone watched then when he turned to Ecthelion. They had formed a circle around them. Later they wouldn’t spar one after the other, but this first fight everyone wanted to see. Ecthelion wore a helmet and Sharû put his on, too. He was glad now that they had been allowed to keep their armour. It was practice, it wasn’t a fight to the death, their weapons were blunt, but they wouldn’t hold back. Sharû attacked first.

Sharû was good, he had to give him that – and damned strong. Ecthelion barely parried the next strike, one hand braced against his sword’s edge to get a better angle. With a quick motion he reached between their linked swords and wound his forearm around Sharû’s wrists so the orc had to let go of his sword if he didn’t want him to break bones.

In a fight to the death, he would have pushed his sword’s point up through the orc’s head, but for training he just tapped the pommel against Sharû’s helmet to show him that it was his point. Sharû blinked surprised and accepted his sword back that Ecthelion had taken from him in the process. He grinned at him.

“Not bad for a beanpole”, he said and Echtelion laughed good-humouredly. “There were times I was faster.” His ribs hurt where Sharû had hit him in their first fight. “But you aren’t bad either, for an orc.” Ecthelion took his helmet off and wiped the sweat from his forehead before looking around. After their first fight, which Ecthelion had lost – he hadn’t expected anything else, he was out of practice after all – other pairs had found each other.

It had been a good idea, although he hadn’t told Finarfin the whole truth when he had asked for practice weapons. He had only spoken of his own people. “Thank you”, Sharû said. “This will take some tenseness from them. Did you hear something new?” Ecthelion shook his head. “But I think that’s a good sign. If they were in agreement so quickly, it would mean something bad for you, I think. That they can’t decide means they don’t want to kill you.” “I hope you are right...” Sharû shook his head. “Best of three?” Ecthelion laughed and put his helmet on again. “With pleasure.”

Later they sat around the fires and drank wine. Ecthelion had claimed a few bottles from Morgoth’s personal stock as spoils of war and Finarfin had agreed. Ecthelion, Gil and Alandur sat with Sharû and his captains. He had encouraged his people to stay and eat dinner with the orcs. Ecthelion listened to the conversation about weapons.

His shoulders felt pleasantly heavy. He hadn’t known it but he’d needed this and he hoped they would do it again. The mood had at no period been hostile. It had surprised him a little, he had expected some quarrels. But both sides seemed to have realised that this practice session could only work if they held back. Ecthelion knew that some of his people didn’t have much sympathy for the orcs – even some of those who had come here today – and he was sure that not all of Sharû’s men were as sensible as their colonel.

He looked into the sky, new moon, but the clouds had dispersed and the stars were shining brightly. He hadn’t seen this in such a long time. Gil, the star, followed his gaze. “Aeg, you lived in Aman. Can you see the same stars there?” Ecthelion hesitated for a moment. “When the Trees were still blooming”, he said slowly, “you could see the stars only if you went seaward through the Calacirya. A night like today... I didn’t know something like it. It wasn’t a span of time, it was a question of distance. Were you born before the moon, Gil?” He was a Nando, but Ecthelion had no idea how old he was.

Gil shook his head. “I know the eternal night as little as you. Or even less. After all...” Gil fell silent. “Yes”, Ecthelion said softly. “I experienced the night suddenly assaulting us. But it was different, too. It wasn’t a natural night, the stars were hidden, everywhere this... unlight, that ate all light.” He shivered. “It took a long time for the fog to clear.”

A memory of the Helcaraxe came to him. It had been a clear night. No wind, no clouds. When he thought back, he sometimes felt like they had stumbled from one snow storm into the next, but on this day the sky had been clear, like now, and the stars had dipped the ice around them in silver light. It had been beautiful.

“We love the starlight”, Ecthelion said. “Although we will forever mourn the loss of the Trees. Sun and Moon... they are beautiful, but the Light of the Trees was something else.” He noticed that everyone around their fire was looking up now and the faces of the orcs were puzzled, searching for something.

At another fire someone started to sing, a song in honour of Varda. And Ecthelion felt... peace. His heart was at rest. He saw a tear run down Sharû’s cheek and wondered what he was thinking of. The orc was similar to him in a lot of things, but he was so foreign, too. He knew nothing about his life and suddenly Ecthelion realised that he _wanted_ to know about him. Not just out of curiosity or for scientific reasons. He wanted to know Sharû, be allowed to call him friend.

Sharû fought the tears but he felt wetness run down his cheeks. He knew this song. It was an old song, the Angband-Elves had changed and their music had changed with them, but this was a song from before. His mother had sung it to him, the same melody, the language a little different. A memory from his childhood. He murmured the words along, would have liked to sing, but he didn’t dare. What would his captains think if he started to sing an elvish song?

Ecthelion and the elves around their fire lifted their voices and Sharû suddenly didn’t care if his captains would think him mad. He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see their looks. His voice was rough and deep, so different from the clear elven voices – and he hadn’t sung since he had been a small child. He was sure that he was singing flat. He jumped, his eyes flying open, when Ecthelion’s hand touched his.

Ecthelion quickly pulled his hand back, their eyes met, Ecthelion’s were very gentle. No one had ever looked at him like this – no one outside of his family, at least. What was this? Ecthelion smiled at him. “I didn’t know you can sing.” “Can I?” “Ah, at least you know the lyrics.” Ecthelion winked at him. “How come?”

Sharû gulped. He knew that all the others were listening, too. No one knew about his family. Orcs didn’t have a family, orcs didn’t show weakness that could be exploited. And the fact that he loved his surviving siblings had been a weakness in Angband, the identity of his parents something that might have put his loyalty into doubt.

“My mother was the daughter of a slave. She knew so many elvish songs and stories and she taught them to my siblings and me”, he said. He could hear Azbog make a surprised sound but Ecthelion looked intrigued. “See”, he said to the other elves. “They aren't so different from us.” Sharû blinked quickly because he was again close to tears. He could hear that Ecthelion meant it and it touched his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

Ecthelion stood at the ship’s rail, taking care to not be in the way of the sailors. The Teleri had agreed to take the army across the sea, but they hadn’t fought in the war – and they treated the formerly exiled Noldor rather coolly. Ecthelion could understand it. What had happened at Alqualonde had been horrible. He had blood on his hands, too.

He closed his eyes and held his face into the spray. He didn’t know if he just imagined it, but the salty air was good for his scars, they itched less since they had reached the sea.

He was glad that he didn’t have anything to do for the moment, the last weeks had been busy. He had talked politics for the Angband-Elves and the orcs. Despite Finarfin’s intervention it had again come to friction between Angband-Elves and Amanyar. Ecthelion gritted his teeth, some of the Vanyar seemed to think they shouldn’t be counted as Amanyar anymore. He had said very clearly what he thought of such arrogance. He hoped it would get better once they reached Aman.

Their numbers had dwindled a little, many Nandor and Laiquendi had decided to stay behind, but others were coming along. Many of those who had been undecided had decided to sail after they came to the sea and met the Teleri. Their people had been separated for a long time, but they were still kin. Ecthelion pushed a strand of hair behind his ear.

He was relieved that the Valar had decided to take the orcs to Aman. He didn’t think they would kill them now and to take them to the Blessed Realm was almost like accepting them as elvish. Ecthelion hoped for a quick decision but he didn’t delude himself. The Valar weren’t known for rushing things and they had sentences to pass.

Ecthelion shook his head and turned his thoughts to his home. His mother and sister waited there. How would it be to meet them again? How would they react to his scarred face? He knew he wasn’t the only one who worried about this. Some of his people had found their spouses, children, parents at the army’s camp and reactions had been varied. It needed time. Time to heal wounds. Time to make their relatives understand that their loved ones had changed in Angband.

Ecthelion took a deep breath before knocking at his parents’ house. Sharû and his men had been dropped off on Tol Eressea, they would stay there until a decision was made as to what would happen with them – it had been thought that it would lead to fewer problems if they didn’t set foot on the main land.

For the Angband-Elves – and all those who didn’t have a home to come back to – a camp had been made before the gates of Tirion. Ecthelion hoped _he_ had a home to come back to, he didn’t know how his mother would receive him. She had turned back with Finarfin’s people after the Kinslaying and the Prophecy. They had fought, she had wanted him and father to come back, too, but they had been stubborn and the loyalty to Turgon had made them walk on.

It was Indo who opened the door. His eyes widened, Ecthelion wasn’t sure if it was surprise at seeing him or startlement at seeing the scar on his face. “Ehtele?”, he whispered, before catching himself. “My lord?” He allowed him entry with a bow. “Indo.” Ecthelion had tears in his eyes. The elf was his mother’s oldest servant, he knew him since his birth. He had treated him so condescendingly so often.

“Forgive me.” Indo looked surprised at him. “For what?” “For being a conceited, stupid boy. I’m sorry for not treating you with the appreciation you deserve.” Indo smiled kindly. “That was long ago, but I accept your apology, my lord. Your mother will be overjoyed to see you. Do you want me to take you to her?” “Please.” Ecthelion felt himself tremble. Would she really be happy? Or would she reproach him? Would she maybe look at it like so many of the Vanyar? That he should have rather died than let himself be abused?

Nivwen sat in the garden room and painted, the patio door was open and let in the scent of the blooming orange trees. “My Lady”, Indo said with a bow and Nivwen looked at them with a polite smile, “your son is here.” Ecthelion saw the moment she recognised him in her face.

Very carefully she put her brush aside, her hand trembled, before she stood up and came slowly closer. “Ehtele”, she said with trembling voice and lifted her hands to his face. “My boy, is it really you?” “It is me, emya”, Ecthelion answered with a sob. “Can I come home?”

“Oh, my boy.” Nivwen embraced him and Ecthelion clung to her. “Of course you can come home. You don’t have to ask! I thought, I’d never see you again. And then Earendil said you were dead, fallen in battle. But you are alive! How?” Ecthelion gulped as she caressed his scarred face. He was afraid to tell her, afraid of her judging him for it. So many elves didn’t understand what it meant to be a slave.

He led her to the couch and sat down with her. “I was badly injured in the battle but I wasn’t dead – and not so badly hurt that they would have finished me off. Morgoth needed slaves and they took me to Angband.” Horror stood in Nivwen’s eyes. “And you survived that?”, she whispered. Ecthelion’s heart clenched and he looked at his hands to not have to see the emotions on her face. “Yes, I did.”

Nivwen touched his cheek so he would look at her again. “I don’t know what you went through, but it is over and you are home. I’m so happy that you are home.” “If you knew what I have done...” Nivwen shook her head. “Nothing you have done could cost you my love. I’m your mother, Ehtele, I’ll always love you. Do you want to talk about it?” Ecthelion shook his head, he was crying again. “Not today”, he answered.

“Come here”, she said gently. “Rest your head in my lap, yonya.” Ecthelion closed his eyes as she stroked his hair, that was slowly growing in again, and relaxed. He didn’t know when he had felt that secure the last time. He was home and whatever the future had in store for his people, he was loved here.

Sharû followed the ships that had dropped them off on the island with his eyes. His men were busy erecting their tents. He was glad to be on firm ground again, the waves had made him sick and he had always been aware of the deep water under him. The sea had been their enemy. He wasn’t sure if it still was so, the Valar hadn’t yet decided, though Ecthelion thought it a good sign that they had taken them to Aman.

Sharû turned around when he heard his name. A group of elves had come out of the forest, they were carrying hunting bows, arrows on the string but not yet aimed at them. Sharû saw a few of his men get a tighter grip the hammers they had used for the tent pegs. They didn’t have weapons, but they would use whatever they could to protect themselves.

Sharû ordered them to pull back and slowly walked up to the elves, his palms raised. “The Valar gave us this place as campground”, he said, not sure who was their leader, they all wore green-brown hunting clothes. “I know that”, one of them said. “I’m Prince Maiwe, my father is Olwe, King of the Solosimpi, he agreed to this. We trust in the Valar to make the right decisions.

I only want to make sure that you know that you are on our land. Tol Eressea is important for my people, it was our home for a long time and many of us still come here often. We have conditions.” Sharû bowed his head in greeting. “My name is Sharû. We are ready to do what is necessary to live in peace with you.”

“If you meet one of us in the forest, we need you to draw back. We know little about you, only dark stories, none of my people should feel afraid to come to the island. You aren’t allowed to fell trees for firewood, there is enough dead wood you can gather. Should the Valar decide that you can stay, we will ascribe trees you can fell for houses, not before.”

“We are going to abide by your conditions, Prince Maiwe.” It would be more tedious to gather firewood than to fell trees for it, but he realised that they needed the goodwill of the Solosimpi. “Good. What do you eat?” Sharû blinked surprised. “How do you mean that?” “The island is not big enough to subsist on hunting only. We won’t allow you to kill all our deer. If you are exclusively meat eaters we have a problem.”

Sharû shook his head. “We enjoy meat, but we eat grain and other plants, too.” Sharû hesitated. They were soldiers, none of them knew how to farm. He decided to say nothing. Ecthelion had promised to come back soon and they had supplies for a few weeks. He would speak with him, surely there were a few Angband-Elves who were ready to teach them.

“That’s good. We won’t forbid you to hunt, but we are going to give you a limit you can’t exceed. If you want to do us a favour, hunt rabbits, it is a fight to keep the population small.” Sharû had to grin. “I think we can live with that.” Maiwe nodded brusquely. “We’ll allow you to arrive in peace now. I’m going to come back.” It could have been a threat, but to Sharû it didn’t sound like it was. These Solosimpi were a lot less aggressive than the Noldor, maybe because they hadn’t fought a war against them. “Until then, Prince Maiwe.”


	6. Chapter 6

Ecthelion woke in his bed and stretched languidly. What a luxury to wake in a warm, soft bed and to know that he could stay in it as long as he wanted to. If he liked, he could even have breakfast brought to his bed. Ecthelion laughed softly, it felt absurd. And he had no time to lie around anyway. He wanted to go to the camp and see how his people fared. He hoped that they would soon find houses for themselves, their own or those of their relatives who’d stayed, or newly built ones. Ecthelion sat up and reached for his clothes.

His mother sat at breakfast when he came down and smiled at him. “Did you have a good night?”, she asked. “The best since a long time”, Ecthelion answered, he had slept like a stone. He sat and dug into his breakfast, reaching for the cheese muffins, his favourite. “Do you think you could make an appointment for me with our seamstress? Nothing special, but my wardrobe is a little limited at the moment”, he said after he’d eaten to his heart’s content and leaned back.

He only had a few donated pieces of clothing and nothing fit properly. There were more important things, but he knew that he would be expected by his peers to act in a certain way. He needed to meet them eye to eye if he wanted to help his people. Nivwen smiled. “I didn’t want to offend you, but I think that’s a good idea. I’ll send for her, will you be here today?” Ecthelion shook his head. “I have to check on my people, make sure they settled in safely.”

Nivwen lifted her eyebrows. “ _Your_ people?” “Angband-Elves, my people, I’m one of them. And they chose me to be their leader. I have responsibility for them, amme, do you understand?” “Of course I understand, Ehtele. You’ve grown up.” Ecthelion felt himself blush. “Can I help in any way? If _you_ need clothes, they can’t be better off.” “That’s true. The king promised to help, but...”

“Arafinwe can’t do everything alone.” Nivwen rubbed her hands. “Tell me what they need the most and I’ll talk to some friends. I’m sure we can organise something to help them.” Ecthelion kissed her cheek. “You are the best, amme.” His mother loved to spend her time painting, but she was good at organising and she knew everyone of influence in Tirion. He could use her help.

“I’ll be on my way now. Have a nice day.” “You too, yonya. Will you be home for dinner?” “Of course.” He had missed her so much, he wanted to spend as much time with her as his duties allowed.

The walk through Tirion was relaxing. He had longed for his home town and the memories of many happy hours he had spent here sang inside him. Ecthelion caught himself whistling as he walked down the hill, once everything had settled down a bit, he would buy a new flute, but that needed more time than he had now.

Many houses looked like they’d been empty for too long, but a hustle and bustle was all about, the homecomers made themselves at home once more. Ecthelion waved at Tarilanya who stood on her balcony, shaking out a feather duster, her hair was held back with a scarf. “Good morning!”, he called up to her.

“Morning?” Tarilanya laughed. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve been up for hours fighting dust bunnies. Come in for a moment, the door is open.” Ecthelion stepped into the hallway and was surprised to hear voices. Tarilanya came down the stairs and embraced him. “Do you have visitors?”, he asked, not sure if he wanted to meet anyone.

“Housemates”, Tarilanya answered and led him into the back room, that might have been a sitting room once. A group of women was cleaning the grimy windows talking and laughing. “The house is so big, there’s no reason for people sleeping in tents if I have room enough.” Her voice wavered a bit at the end, her whole family had died in Gondolin. Ecthelion squeezed her shoulder wordlessly.

“Anyway. They help me clean up and the house is in dire need of it, I can tell you. It happened all so quickly, back then...” She shook her head. “The wine racks didn’t survive the centuries, I’m afraid. But at the moment I don’t have goods to sale, anyway.” “We have to change that immediately”, he answered. “Or I’ll have nothing to drink.” She’d been his wine deliverer in Gondolin. “Oh, we can’t have that.” Tarilanya laughed. “Have you been in the camp, yet?”

“I’m on my way to it. Is there something you want to talk to me about? Or you?”, Ecthelion turned to the other women. “I want everyone to know that you can approach me with any matter and I’ll try to help.” Tarilanya smiled at him. “That’s nice of you, Ecthelion. I’ll tell everyone who asks. Maybe you could remind the king that food is not everything. I know he has other things to do, but you said, he wants to help us. I can’t build a new business from nothing and of course I’d pay back my debts, but a loan would be more than welcome.”

“I’ll talk to him next time I see him and to some other people who might be able to loan money. I think most of us would like to stand on our own feet as soon as possible again. See you soon, Tarilanya, you know where to find me, if you have any difficulties.”

When he reached the camp it was already lunch time, he stopped at a few fires and spoke a few words with them. Many wanted to know what to expect now that they’d reached Aman. They were free again and although most baulked to outright ask for anything, the insecurity about their future was at the front of their minds.

Ecthelion tried to reassure them as well as he could, he had a meeting with Finarfin the next day and would address some of their worries and he hoped his mother would be able to get them clothes.

“They say I have to prove that I’m my parent’s son to be allowed to move into the house, but how should I do that?”, one elf told him close to tears. “Do they expect me to be able to produce a birth certificate?” “You need witnesses”, Ecthelion said. “People who’ll guarantee that you are who you say you are. Three, if you can find as many. There must be someone who knew your parents and you.”

“Not many survived the ruin of Nargothrond”, the elf whispered. “I’m not sure if anyone who knew me from there survived Angband.” “But that can be found out.” Ecthelion wouldn’t give up that easily. “Come, I know someone who might be able to help you.” He had given Gil the lists of names of the elves who had come with them and he knew that his friend had started to gather more information about each of them. Gil sat in front of his tent, enjoying the sun, and smiled at them.

“Good afternoon, Ecthelion.” “Good afternoon, my friend. Maybe you can help Celairae here to find people who can confirm who his parents were so he can have their house. I know you asked around about where they came from.” Gil nodded. “I’ve not met everyone, but yes, of course we can look at the lists. Where are you from?”

“Nargothrond”, Celairae answered and looked gratefully at Ecthelion. “And if it doesn’t work out, we’ll find another way”, Ecthelion told him. “I’ll be in camp for a while longer. Gil, I’ll come back later, I want to talk about a few things.” He walked on to find Matil and talk about houses.

Ecthelion looked at the blueprints Matil had drawn. They were variant designs for houses they might build for those of them who had never lived in Aman, if Finarfin gave them the permission. He eyed Matil from the corner of his eye when the other elf took a deep breath and opened his mouth as if to speak but then stayed silent, it wasn’t the first time in the last few minutes.

“What bothers you?”, Ecthelion asked. “I want to talk to you about the orcs”, Matil answered, not meeting his eyes. “You say you can forgive them and you made the decision to speak for them, and that is, of course, your decision, but you have to realise that not all of us are of the same mind. _I_ can’t forgive them just like that, I told you so before.”

Ecthelion nodded. “And I heard you, but what is it, that you want? Do you want the Valar to sentence them to death?” He tried to keep all judgement from his voice, it wasn’t his place to judge Matil and he wanted him to continue speaking.

“No.” Matil shook his head decisively. “I thought about it and no, I think that would be wrong. They should get a chance to prove that they are, as you say, relatives and can act accordingly. But they committed crimes against us and they should be made accountable for it, especially if the Valar decide that they should be allowed to live. And it is a matter between us and them, not the Valar or King Finarfin should be the judges.”

“That sounds a lot like you want to take law into your own hands”, Ecthelion answered frowning. “And I don’t think that is a good idea. It’s a dark place to go to.” “Of course there have to be rules. I don’t want to pay them back in kind – I’m not a rapist! – and the people I talked with about it think like that, too, but there should be a punishment.”

Ecthelion drummed his fingers on the table top. He could understand Matil’s point of view although he didn’t share it. “Are we in agreement about waiting for the Valar’s judgment before doing anything about it? It is hard enough for them to not know what their fate will be as it is.” Matil nodded slowly. “You might be right.”

“And afterwards we’ll find a solution with them. If it is, as you say, a matter between us and them, we should seek their compliance.” Matil cocked his head and looked surprised at him. “You really think they would consent to be punished?” “I haven’t even touched on that with Sharû, I don’t know. But what did _you_ want to do? Attack them?” Matil looked away embarrassed. “We didn’t really think about it. We just felt so... so helpless.”

Ecthelion closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You felt helpless because I, who you chose to speak for you, support the orcs.” He’d made a mistake. “I’m sorry.” “I don’t hold it against you, Aeg, you do so much for us, but...” Ecthelion nodded. “It is good that you spoke to me about it. We have to stick together, Matil. You know as well as I do that it is going to be hard for many elves to accept us, changed as we are. You already got into a brawl because of it. I don’t want us to fall out because of our different opinions.

Make your minds up as to what you want from them, or how you wish them to be punished. And once the Valar made their decision, we’ll meet with Sharû and sort it out. I don’t know what the orcs are going to say to it, but I know how surprised they are that I and some others are ready to put in a good word for them.”

“So you’ll support us? Even though you think not like us?” “I want us all to be happy and I hope, we’ll find a compromise that is going to benefit everyone.” Ecthelion put his hand on Matil’s shoulder. “You made me your leader and I know what a responsibility that is. I have a sympathetic ear for everyone and I will do what I can to help, even if I think differently. No one should be afraid to come to me. Please tell that to the people you spoke with. I’m not against you just because I feel different about the matter.”

Matil smiled relieved. “I feared you would judge us for it. I thought, you would order us to give up our revenge. I’m glad that it is different.” “You made me your leader”, Ecthelion repeated. “I speak for us all when I talk to the King or the Valar, but I’m not your lord, I can’t order you to do anything.” “You could try and most of us wouldn’t fight it, I think. Thank you for not doing so. You lightened my heart. I’ll talk to the others and I’m sure they’ll be ready to wait. What do you think of the designs?”

Ecthelion turned back to the blueprints. “They are good and we have many craftsmen among us. Once we get a building site, it won’t take long to build them.” “Do you really think it will be that easy?” Ecthelion shrugged. “The king owns most of the land directly around Tirion. I’ll see what he says tomorrow.”

Later, Ecthelion was already on his way home, Celairae ran after him with a smile on his lips. “I wanted to thank you, Lord Ecthelion”, he said breathlessly. “You were right. I found a few people who remembered my parents and it was enough for the clerks. I can move into the house. Thank you so much, my lord.”

“Just Ecthelion”, he answered. “For my people I’m simply Ecthelion. And you are welcome, I’m glad to hear it.” It was understandable that the officials wanted to see proof, but that wouldn’t be easy in many cases. Ecthelion made a mental note to talk about that with Finarfin, too. “Do you know what you want to do now?”

Celairae shrugged. “I was a pewterer and cups and plates are always needed. I’ll furnish a workshop as soon as I have the means to.” Ecthelion nodded with a smile. It was nice to hear the plans of Celairae and Tarilanya and was sure that Finarfin wouldn’t abandon them.

At home some letters waited for him. Egalmoth who wanted to meet with him, a note from his mother telling him he had an appointment with the seamstress tomorrow morning and... someone had taken great care to hide their handwriting, the ungainly tengwar screamed at him that he was scum because he spoke up for the orcs.

 _Traitor, half-orc, slavetrash..._ so much hatred. Cruel wishes as to what should happen to him for it. Ecthelion gulped and crumpled the letter before throwing it into the fire. He had known there was some resistance, had expected to have to argue about it, but this... craven and despicable was all he could call it.

Ecthelion realised he was shaking with anger. He wished the person who had written this were here so he could tell them what he thought about them and he felt helpless because he knew that there was no way to find them out.

He still stood in the hallway and had barely calmed down when his mother came home and hoped that she wouldn’t notice his upset, but when he saw the red blotches on her cheeks, he knew he didn’t need to worry. She was too angry. What might have happened? “Amme, are you alright?”, he asked.

“Yes, yes I am”, she answered absentmindedly and Ecthelion threw her a sceptical look. Was it about him? “Amme...” She sighed. “I’m just angry with those scandal mongers. I wanted to see if we can drum up some support for your people – and I might have – but...” “They talked about me. About us”, Ecthelion said and grimaced.

“Yes. It is unbelievable how much people are gossiping – and what ideas they get!” “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?” Ecthelion leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. First the letter and now this, he should have known that the rumour mill was already at work. Nivwen caressed his cheek. “Is it true that you help those orcs the Valar took to Tol Eressea?”

“Yes”, Ecthelion said firmly. “That is true and I'm not ashamed of it. Do they talk about it?” Nivwen huffed. “That, too. I said that you are home and that your people need help and it was as if that meant I allowed them to ask the most indecent things about you!” They had walked to the garden room while they talked and Nivwen flopped down on the couch. “They heard about your scars and argued if you got them in the war or later in Angband!”

Ecthelion growled. The rumour that he had sustained the burns in the fight for Gondolin had already started on the march back. As if that were more heroic than the truth. “It was in Angband, and you can tell that anyone who asks”, he snapped and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m not angry with you. Just with... people who believe they know what they talk about.”

“I understand that, Ehtele. Do you really want to hear more? I don’t want to hurt you.” “Better to be warned.” Nivwen sighed. “As you wish. I don’t like to repeat those things. They say you help the orcs because their leader is your leman! They say the slaves... well, that you had to be available for... for certain services, that you are tainted. But you are alive, that can’t be true!” Ecthelion saw how uncomfortable she felt saying this and felt again the fear to lose her reach for his heart.

“And... if it we really had to?”, he croaked and Nivwen blanched. “Oh, Ehtele!” She reached for his hand. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry! I didn’t want to reopen wounds. And I certainly don’t think you tainted, but... how? It’s written down...” Ecthelion looked away. “Not all that is written down is true, I guess. Some... some people don’t survive being raped, but many of us did. And now that it is over, we are scorned by our own kin.”

Nivwen caressed his cheek, her eyes full of tears. “That’s why you thought I’d want you gone if I knew?”, she said gently. “I don’t. I love you. Should I wish you dead? I’m sorry this happened to you, I can’t imagine how horrible it was, but I can’t scorn you. Can you tell me, why you help the orcs if they did something so vile to you?”, she asked and Ecthelion heard that she wouldn’t judge him regardless of his answer. It was calming. ‘I’ll always love you.’ She’d meant it.

“They were ordered to kill us and helped us to gain our freedom instead. Without them none of us would have survived”, he said what he’d said so often already. “They did the right thing and they deserve a second chance because of it. They hurt us and that was wrong, but... that was all they knew.” He didn’t confess to her that while he had certainly never raped anyone, he knew the feeling of being sure to be entitled to receive something for favour. It might not be exactly the same, but he hadn’t been a very good person.

“They grew up in the believe that it is their right to treat slaves like this. I want to believe that they can be different if we let them and many of my people think so, too.” “And you don’t want revenge?” Ecthelion shook his head. He had barely had time to think about himself since they’d regained their freedom, but there was no hatred for the orcs in his heart. “ _I_ don’t.” He remembered his discussion with Matil and he really understood where he was coming from, but: “I want to look forward, not back.” And he didn't need revenge to do that.


	7. Chapter 7

One of the elves – Laeglin, Sharû thought, he wasn’t good with names – offered him a jug of wine and Sharû gratefully took a deep draught, his hands were covered in blisters. He hadn’t realised what hard work ploughing was. “I think they want to kill us”, Ithrû said to him in a stage whisper, sitting down beside them with a groan. “It’s their late revenge.”

Laeglin laughed. “No, not at all. You asked us to teach you to provide for yourselves. _This_ is what you have to do to start growing corn. Living the life of a farmer isn’t easy, soldier.” He had never appreciated how much their women had to work to support them. “And we are grateful for your help”, Sharû answered. “I know that you have your own troubles.” Ecthelion had looked tired when he had visited the last time.

Laeglin shrugged. “You should have a real chance, me and the others who are here today, think that means to give you an opportunity to change your life. You were soldiers, for your whole life, how are you supposed to know how to life a live in peace? And... I didn’t expect that, but if I’m honest, with you I don’t feel so inadequate as I sometimes do on the mainland. You at least don’t judge us for our past.”

Sharû looked away embarrassed and gave the jug back. “It is not for us to judge you for something that was our fault. I’m sorry that you aren’t treated well, you don’t deserve that.” Laeglin sighed. “Most of them don’t even mean it, but they don’t understand. I was born in Beleriand, in Aman everything is new to me, I barely speak Quenya – not the way they speak it here, at least. It never mattered until now, but here it is a flaw.” Laeglin fell silent and blushed. “I don’t know why I even tell you that”, he mumbled.

Sharû swallowed a laugh and just smiled instead. He didn’t want the elf to think that he was laughing at him. “Maybe I just look trustworthy to you”, he joked. Laeglin laughed and bumped his shoulder into his. “Yes, maybe. You are alright, colonel. I hope I won’t insult you if I tell you that it is easy to come round to Ecthelion’s opinion that you are relatives when I talk to you.”

Sharû gulped down the lump in his throat with an effort. “I’m not insulted”, he answered. “In my eyes it is the biggest compliment you can make me.” Laeglin smiled at him and looked like he wanted to answer but then he only said: “Our ship is coming.” He stood up. “We’ll be back soon and see how you get along.” Sharû offered him his hand and Laeglin shook it. “Goodbye and give my regards to Ecthelion.” “I will.”

Laeglin called his people together and they waited on the shore until the Solosimpi went ashore. Ithrû straightened. “Estel is here.” Sharû saw him and his family climb from the boat. He and Ithrû started to walk without having to talk about it. “Hello, brothers!” Estel embraced them both. “I’m sorry that I took so long to visit you, but we had to find our place first, too.”

“I understand.” Sharû greeted Raywen and waved at Tantareita. They had made the passage on separate ships and the boy was still a little shy with them. Estel called a greeting to Zak who walked over from the other side of the freshly ploughed corn field. “How are you?”, he asked Sharû. “The people on the mainland are very concerned about your being here.”

“I know. I wish the Valar would come to a decision, but there’s no rushing it, it seems. And we do well here. The Angband-Elves help us and the Solosimpi are wary but not hostile as long as we follow the rules they set for us. One of their princes visits now and then. It could be a lot worse.”

“Are you staying for dinner?”, Ithrû asked, his face was alight. Every time Sharû saw him with his twin, he realised how much Estel was missing when he wasn’t here. Ithrû had never complained in the long years of their separation, but Sharû wondered how much it had hurt him.

“In fact, we’d like to stay for a few days”, Raywen answered. “Estel misses you and I’d like to get to know his family.” “That’s wonderful! Come, we’ll set up a tent for you.” Ithrû took Estel’s hand and pulled him after him. Raywen followed with her son, an indulgent smile on her lips. Sharû looked happily after them.

“It’s strange to see him like this”, Zak said softly and Sharû threw him a surprised glance. “Strange? I think it’s wonderful. And I’m glad he found us.” “I’m glad, too, but... this whole situation makes me nervous. We didn’t obey the order to kill the slaves in their sleep, but what keeps _them_ from doing it to us? And Estel is one of them.”

Sharû shook his head. “Zak, you have to stop thinking like that.” He knew all too well that Zak had always been the one of his siblings who could ignore their mother’s words the easiest and listen to their Masters instead. They had fought a couple of times because he treated the slaves more brutally than Sharû thought it necessary.

“The elves are not our enemies. Our fate is not conclusively decided yet, sure, but if they’d wanted to kill us, they’d have done it already. And Estel is our brother, no matter what he looks like. His family is ours, too, and that is a _good_ think.” Zak growled something unintelligible.

“We’ll see how merciful the Valar are”, he said then. “I wouldn’t count on them being better than our king.” Sharû sighed. "We can only hope they are. Aule at least doesn't seem so bad." The Valar had talked a few times with him. "Let's follow the others." He wanted to spend the time Estel was here, with him.

~*~*~

_Ecthelion ran through the labyrinthine streets of a city, searching for something he couldn’t remember, he only knew that it was important to find it. He heard screams and the sound of battle, his armour weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was exhausted, but he moved on, putting a foot in front of the other laboriously..._

_Suddenly he realised that the houses around were ablaze, heat singed his skin as he walked on, it burned in his lungs and made him cough. There was an enemy in the fire, he knew it without any doubt..._

_An explosion roared in his ears and he was hurled through the air, his body feeling like it stood in flames..._

_H_ _ands on his skin and it hurt so much..._

_A voice saying something he didn’t understand above the buzzing in his ears..._

_Darkness, a futile attempt to open his eyes..._

Ecthelion woke from the sound of his own whimpering. His heart raced in his chest and the pillow was wet with his tears. He stumbled out of bed and tore curtains and window open. The cool, clear night air met his heated, tearstained face and Ecthelion took it in in deep, desperate gulps, his hands trembled and he closed them around the edge of the windowsill. He looked up at the stars and let their twinkling calm him. It was over, he had healed, he was free.

After a while he started to shiver in the cold air and went back to bed but left the window open, his blankets were warm enough and the sweet scent of the flowers down in the garden would keep the fire from his dreams – he hoped. Ecthelion closed his eyes and breathed evenly, let the soft night sounds of the town – the meowing of a cat, the chirping of the crickets in the fields around the town, the song of a night bird – calm him. It was peaceful and his body, still prepared for fight or flight, relaxed.

Ecthelion fell asleep again and couldn’t remember to have dreamt badly again in the morning. He felt refreshed and that was just as well, he wanted to visit Sharû on the Island and it was far to the coast.

Sharû already waited at the shore when Ecthelion came off the ship that had carried him over from the main land and would bring him back in a day. He had an agreement with one of the Teleri because he came so often. “I see that your attempts at farming bear fruit.” Ecthelion looked at the green shoots of wheat and something that looked like a large vegetable garden and smiled when Sharû straightened, glowing with pride. “Laeglin attests us good work”, he said. “Thank you for finding him and the others.”

“I’m happy that I could be of help”, Ecthelion answered. “I would have come myself, but I don’t know anything about agriculture. I’m glad that you get along.” Sharû frowned. “Some of them sound like they don’t get along so well with the other _elves_.” Ecthelion grimaced, if even Sharû was noticing it... “Let’s say, some of the elves here find it hard to accept us the way we are now, with all the memories we have about Angband, it’s not so easy to come back.” He shook his head. “But that’s nothing that should bother you. I watched Mormirion’s trial, I thought you’d like to know about it.”

“Yes, very much!” They sat in the grass, the sun warming their skin and Ecthelion realised suddenly that Sharû didn’t seem to mind the sun. He pushed the thought aside for later, he didn’t want to keep him waiting for the news. “Mormirion did incriminate himself, but I and a few of my people made sure that the Valar also hear about the good things he did. He is placed under house arrest for a hundred years, but he isn’t imprisoned in Mandos and I think Aule looks favourably at him.”

Sharû sighed relieved. “That’s good. Thank you for coming over to tell me.” “You’re welcome, it gives me an excuse to come here.” Ecthelion smiled at him and became aware again of how easy it was to talk to Sharû. He’d always thought orcs stupid and if they had any cunning it related to cruelty and war, but that had been a wrong preconception. Sharû wasn’t stupid. “Can I ask you something?” Sharû shrugged and nodded. “I thought orcs don’t like the sun, but you don’t seem to be bothered by it. Why is that?”

“I don’t know. It’s true that many of us can’t abide the sun. They say the light burns on their skin and in their eyes. My eyes had to get used to the light, too, but I don’t have a dislike for it and you’ll have noticed that I’m not the only one. I can’t tell you why. Does it matter?” Ecthelion laughed. “I’m Noldo, they say we are curious to a fault. It doesn’t really matter, but many elves would probably see it as a sign that you aren’t wholly twisted.” Sharû growled and Ecthelion felt himself shudder.

“I’m sorry”, Sharû said. “Didn’t want to scare you. And as long as it means that the Valar are going to let us live, I don’t mind. Did you hear anything?” “Nothing about a decision concerning you, but... you know Garam and Silwen I suppose?” Ecthelion had talked after Mormirion’s trial with Silwen and she’d left him impressed. “The Valar seem to have come to the decision to treat Garam like an elf. I don’t know if that’s because Silwen is one of Aule’s now and thus is under his protection, but I’m inclined to see that as a good sign.”

“I only wish we could have certainty." Sharû sighed. "I try to follow your optimism but the uncertainty is gnawing at all of us. We’d like to build houses, but we can’t before we know that we can stay. And I’d really like to... to see the main land.” He looked shyly at him as if he expected Ecthelion to laugh at him. “I’d just like to know if that’s ever going to be possible.”

“You want to see Aman?” Sharû nodded and Ecthelion wondered if he’d be blushing right now if his skin weren’t so dark. “I want to visit Estel and his elves, they live with others in a wood and he seems to be very happy there. And I’d like to see Tirion and Valmar, I’ve heard so much about them.” Ecthelion wanted to ask him who had told him, when he realised the answer. Their songs, they had so often sung about their lost home in Angband.

“From the other side of the island the shore and the harbour of the Solosimpi is just visible and sometimes we can hear them sing at night, it fills my heart with longing to go there", Sharû continued and Ecthelion could see the longing in the orc’s eyes. He slowly laid his hand on his arm. “I’m not that well received in Alqualonde, but I’m going to show you Tirion as soon as possible”, he said. “It is my home town, I know the most beautiful places there.”

And hidden corners where it was possible to kiss and, if you were especially bold, even more without being watched... Ecthelion pushed the thought quickly into the dark corner it had come from, but Sharû’s skin was warm through his shirt and he didn’t want to take away his hand. Luckily, Sharû didn’t seem to have followed his line of thought. “You really would do that?”, he said surprised. “It would be my pleasure”, Ecthelion answered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can find the chapter of Mighty Love, where the Valar decide on the orcs' future here: [Chapter 41](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11790954/chapters/33961854). This happens afterwards:

Sharû jumped off the boat into the shallow water and ran the last bit through the waves, he was too impatient to wait any longer. “The Valar have decided”, he called out to his men who already waited. “We are free. We can stay on the island.” He saw how the tenseness left them and was swept up into a happily shouting crowd, hands patted his back and shoulders. Ithrû and Estel, who had come over to wait with his brothers, embraced him laughing. “Well done, big brother”, Ithrû said.

“I didn’t do it alone”, Sharû answered. “Without Ecthelion’s help it wouldn’t have happened. And without the help of the Angband-Elves we would still be dependent on food deliveries.” Ithrû nodded. “You’re right. We should invite them to a party – everyone who helped us. It’s a good reason to celebrate.”

“That’s a wonderful idea.” Sharû grinned at his men. “But today, I’d say, we can already celebrate without them. Who is in favour of tasting our first self-brewed beer?” He laughed cheerfully at the deafening approval. He could feel the tenseness, the uncertainty that had made them grumpy at times, fall off them. The Valar had given them a future. Did they know how much that was worth?

Sharû snuck away from his celebrating men and walked along the shore whistling softly. He looked into the night sky, watched the stars whose names he now knew and his heart flowed over with happiness. He was free, really free. Sure, they could only leave the island on invitation, but many Angband-Elves had become friends and although the Teleri weren’t elated that they had been given ‘their’ island for good, Maiwe was still favourably inclined towards them and they had started to trade with some of the fishermen. Sharû hoped that they would be able to persuade them to show them how to build boats.

“Sharû?” Estel had run after him and laid his arm around his shoulder. “What are you doing here all alone?” “Stargazing.” Sharû smiled at him. “Mother loved them so much.” “Do you think...” Estel took a deep breath. “Do you think she could be reborn someday?” Sharû stared at him. “I... I never thought about that. Rebirth for an orc? Or was she elf enough?”

Estel shrugged. “I don't know, I hope. Comes with the name.” He winked at him. “We have eternity now. Who knows what might happen. Ithrû would like to come back to Laiquanan with me, are you coming, too? I’d like to show you how my family lives.” “And we would be welcome there?” Estel nodded. “They wouldn’t welcome a whole regiment of orcs, but my brothers? Yes, of course. I told them everything about us and I’m so glad that it doesn’t have to be a secret anymore. They know what you did for me – and _you_ especially – to free me. And they know that Ithrû is my twin, that means a lot to them.”

“It would be my honour to be introduced to them”, Sharû said. “But first I have to settle some things.” Ecthelion had repeated his invitation to show him Tirion after the Valar’s judgement and Sharû had readily agreed. While he was in Tirion, he would also talk to the leader of those elves who wished recompense for their suffering, what that would look like. He wasn’t too worried.

He knew many of the Angband-Elves very well by now and although those who still held a grudge probably hadn’t come to the island, yet, he was sure that they wouldn’t abuse them. He had already talked to his men about it and he intended to offer those elves their services, he hoped it would be enough. Estel nodded. “Just write to me when you are ready, you can come anytime.” “Thank you, little brother.” Sharû leaned into him. “I look forward to see the main land and the word you live in.”

“That’s your _house_?” Sharû stared up the front open-mouthed. “At the risk of sounding simple: That’s not a house, it’s a palace!” Ecthelion shrugged, almost a little embarrassed. “The palace is much larger, we can visit it tomorrow, if you’d like to.” Sharû gave him a look that told him clearly that the orc was overwhelmed. “You knew who I am”, Ecthelion mumbled. “Yes, but I didn’t realise what that means. You know what serves as my standard.” “This is not Angband”, Ecthelion answered with a smile.

“I can see that.” Sharû shook his head as Ecthelion led him up the stairs and into the hall. “And it’s not mine, by the way. My mother is head of the family in my father’s absence, and I wouldn’t have the time, anyway, to see about the management of our lands. I’ll show you to your guest room so you can rest a little and later I’ll give you a tour through the house.” “And your mother really doesn’t mind me being here?” “No, you are my friend.” Ecthelion wasn’t sure, if he worried about meeting her, so she added: “She’s not in Tirion at the moment.”

Sharû relaxed visibly. “You aren’t nervous to be alone with me?”, he glossed over his feelings with a joke and Ecthelion laughed. “No, even if we really were alone. We both know I’m a better fighter than you”, he answered, but he thought: ‘I trust you.’ “I doubt that!” Sharû puffed up, but his eyes glinted with humour. “Do you want to challenge me?”

“Maybe later.” He opened the door to the guestroom, that had been made ready for Sharû. “I’ll let you settle in now and come back in an hour to give you a tour of the house. Or is that to early?” Sharû shook his head. “That’s fine.” The orc turned around in the lavish room. “If you need something, just ring, the servants are prepared for you.”

“But maybe I’m not prepared for them”, Sharû mumbled after Ecthelion had closed the door behind him. He let his duffle bag with his spare clothes slide to the floor and sat on the bed. Yes, he had known that Ecthelion was a nobleman, he just hadn’t been able to imagine what that meant. He slid his hand over the soft fabric of the green-golden coverlet and looked up to the stuccoed ceiling.

It was so easy to be around Ecthelion, he hadn’t known how much separated them. Sharû shook his head. This didn’t separate them. Ecthelion sometimes made comments about his younger self that implied that he had been conceited, but he wasn’t any more. ‘You are my friend’, he had said only moments ago, as if it were the most natural thing for an elf-lord to have an orc as his friend. Sharû laughed. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this, but it made him happy.

He got up to use the water in the washbowl to get rid of the road dust on his hands and face. It was only the second time he’d made the journey to the mainland and had been very aware of the elves’ glances. He didn’t wear sword, just a hunting knife that he didn’t consider a weapon, but just his looks made him a threat in the eyes of many. Sharû wondered how it would be to walk through Tirion at Ecthelion’s side. He shouldn’t care about being stared at so much, but it felt like a threat and he found it hard to not react to that.

Sharû moved to the window looking out on the street and down the hill. The houses were built of pale stone or painted in bright colours like yellow and linden green and everywhere trees and bushes could be seen, flower boxes on balconies and windows. Sharû leaned against the window frame and sighed with a smile. The view touched something he called his elvish side in the privacy of his mind. He looked forward to look around. But first he had an appointment with Matil, the speaker of the elves who wanted compensation. He didn’t particularly look forward to _that_ but he knew that it was necessary and he didn’t blame them for it.

Sharû turned around at the knock and Ecthelion looked in. “Are you ready?” The elf had a smile on his face and Sharû wondered if he had as much fun showing him all this as he had looking at it. “I am.” “Then, important things first, I’ll show you the way to the dining room.” Ecthelion winked at him. On their way along the hallway Sharû noticed among the pictures of elves a young man who he thought he knew. “Is that you?”, he asked and pointed at the painting.

Ecthelion nodded. “Now you know what I looked like before the accident.” He touched his scarred cheek with a melancholy gaze. “They called me the most beautiful elf in Gondolin and I was very proud of that.” Ecthelion shrugged. “There are more important things, I suppose.” ‘You are still beautiful’, Sharû thought but he didn’t dare to say it. Orcs weren’t known for their sense of beauty, his words would probably hurt more than help.

“These are paintings of assorted members of my family, but I don’t want to bore you with my family history. And my favourite painting is not here, anyway. Do you want to see it?” Sharû nodded and followed Ecthelion down the stairs, the elf pointed the dining room out to him before he led him to the next room.

“There’s another larger representative reception room that goes out to the garden, but this is my mother’s drawing room and our private living room. And this is my favourite painting, my sister and me. My mother did it. I can’t remember the day but when I look at it, I immediately feel happy and at home.” Sharû looked silently at the painting. Two children sitting in a flower meadow. The boy was putting a crown of daisies on the girl’s head while she was braiding a second one.

“You look like you were fond of each other.” “We were. We could be at it hammer and tongs but usually we got along well. She married a Vanya and lives in Valmar. You have three brothers, don’t you?” “Yes. No.” Sharû sighed. “I have three surviving brothers. I had eight siblings, six brothers and a sister and a stillborn brother, but only Zak, Ithrû and Estel survived.” Sharû gulped.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Ecthelion touched his arm. “We were soldiers”, Sharû answered. “Death was our constant companion, but they were my family and I loved them.” “Of course you did. Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house and then we should get ready for our meeting with Matil.”

Sharû’s shoulders were tense as they walked to Matil’s house. “We’re almost there”, Ecthelion said softly, sure that Sharû’s nervousness about the meeting wasn’t made better by the looks the other pedestrians threw at him. Sharû nodded curtly, his jaw moving. Ecthelion saw how he clenched his hand before stretching the fingers again. He fought against his nature... no, his training, Ecthelion corrected himself.

Some elves thought orcs were little more than wild beasts, following only their instincts, but he knew that wasn’t true. They were capable of choosing their behaviour and that made it in one sense worse – could you hate a wild animal for following its nature? – but it meant too that they could change and Sharû had already at their first conversation been so far from what he’d expected from an orc.

He was clever and brave and ready to go through fire and water for his men. He treated the Angband-Elves with respect and if one of his men said something deprecating, he immediately intervened. Ecthelion hadn’t heard any complaints from the elves that had helped the orcs to become self-sufficient. Ecthelion looked at the orc’s profile and wondered when he’d started to think him attractive. He looked away quickly. A romance would only complicate things more and he knew that Sharû thought himself in his debt, he wouldn’t put it past him to offer him sex as payment if he noticed his interest.

“Could you put Mo’s money to good use?”, Sharû suddenly asked and Ecthelion wondered with a shudder if he used some kind of instinctive ósanwe. “Yes. There are many of us who might never be able to work normally again.” And he was aware now that these elves hadn’t only survived because of the solidarity among the Angband-Elves but also because Mo and Sharû’s men had provided them all with larger rations. “The money can help them to take more time to heal. And”, Ecthelion smirked, “the fact that one of Morgoth’s people had the decency to do this without having to be prompted, shamed a few of my peers into donating something, too.” He'd have been happier if other arguments had convinced them, but he took what he could get.

Sharû grinned. “That’s good. You know, if I had money...” “I don’t want money from you, Sharû.” Ecthelion shook his head. “And nothing else, either. It’s enough for me that we can be friends. We’ll hear now what Matil has to say and we’ll take it from there.” They had reached Matil’s house, the workshop was dark, Ecthelion climbed up the outside staircase and knocked on the door. Matil opened almost immediately, he’d probably seen them come.

“Come in.” Ecthelion saw his hands tremble and reminded himself that he wasn’t used to Sharû’s presence. He was here as moral support both for Matil and Sharû. Matil had insisted on meeting here and not at Ecthelion’s house, but he wondered if that really had been a good idea. Yes, maybe Matil felt more save in his own house, but on the other hand it couldn’t be a good feeling to let someone he was afraid of into his home.

Ecthelion jumped surprised when Sharû moved past him and knelt to Matil, his head raised – it took Ecthelion a moment to understand that he was offering him his throat. “I’m here in my men’s name as you speak for yours. We incurred guilt, we want to atone for it.” Matil slowly reached out and wrapped his hand around Sharû’s throat. “You would give yourself into our hands, make yourself vulnerable?”

“Yes”, Sharû answered softly. Ecthelion watched silently. Sharû had told him what he would offer in the name of his men, but he could see that Sharû had decided for himself to give Matil whatever he wanted. He saw Matil’s forearm tense when he squeezed and wanted to intervene but the moment was over before he could. Matil took his hand away and made a step back. “Stand up, Sharû. Let’s talk.”

He led them to a table and offered them a seat while he fetched glasses and opened a bottle of wine. “Thank you”, he said when he sat down with them. “I haven’t done anything yet”, Sharû answered astonished and Matil smiled wryly. “You agreed to meet me and you just gave me the feeling of not being helpless, of having power of decision. Do you know how valuable that is?”

Ecthelion saw Sharû hunch his shoulders in embarrassment. “I can’t imagine”, he said softly. “How can we make up for our wrong deeds, Matil? My men and me are prepared to do that.” "Ecthelion said that you told him about blood debts. I think you are right to compare this. We don’t ask for blood, but we expect your service. Me and likeminded people came to the agreement that it would be best to make you help with building the houses.” Matil threw Ecthelion a questioning look.

“The construction work is going well, but many of us still live in tents”, he said and nodded. “That really isn’t a bad idea.” Matil smiled gratefully at him. “We’ll help”, Sharû said and drank from his glass. “I can’t do without all my men, we have fields to till.” “Of course”, Matil said. “But I’ll come myself and I’ll bring everyone I can.” Ecthelion knew that it meant that the orcs would have to live a while longer in tents, Sharû put the settling of their debt above their own comfort. He hoped Matil knew that and appreciated it.

Matil looked a little surprised at it being so easy although Ecthelion had told him that Sharû wouldn’t make this difficult. “I’m glad that we are in accord”, he said and continued. “I know a few people for whom this won’t be enough. They want personal revenge, they want to see you humiliated. I can’t deny that I think at times like that, too. It did me good to see you on your knees, for me there’s no malice behind it, but it helps me to put the past away, I think.”

“You don’t have to justify this, Matil. Orc justice is brutal, we are used to suffer for mistakes.” Sharû laced his fingers on the table top and looked seriously at Matil. “I can’t trust all my men to accept that from an elf without fighting back, but if you let me choose volunteers, it’s possible. I want a promise that no one is going to be maimed – and I know that is more than we gave you, but I have a responsibility for my men and I have to be sure that they don’t come to permanent harm.”

“Of course!” Matil took a deep breath. “I’ll ask around again, who’d want that. Most of them won’t want to be alone with you, so it’s going to be several elves together. No sexual assault, we don’t do that, and of course we won’t maim. I don’t think that anyone has a bone to pick with anyone specific, so you can choose of course. If there is, we’ll talk again.”

Sharû nodded. “I agree, Matil. I hope... is it asked too much to hope that all hatred between us is going to be buried afterwards?” “No, it’s intended like that. We want revenge, redress and then peace. It doesn’t mean we’ll be best friends, I leave that to Ecthelion.” Matil winked at Ecthelion and he knew he didn’t mean it as angry as it sounded. Sharû relaxed visibly. They touched glasses and Ecthelion breathed easier. He would be glad to close this particular chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

Sharû followed Ecthelion through an archway overgrown with grapevines to the inner courtyard of an inn. In the morning Ecthelion had led him through the public rooms of the palace and Sharû’s mind was still overflowing with the images of all that splendour and beauty and the stories Ecthelion had told him. Afterwards they had strolled through the town and Sharû had drunk in the light, colourful air.

It was nothing like the stories his mother had told and just like he had imagined it at the same time - these elves' lives were not like what his grandmother had remembered of the woods and glens under starlight but still all of it radiated 'elvishness'. It felt like home to a part of him that had lain dormant for a long time.

Now it was late midday and his feet hurt. Ecthelion and he sat down on a table in the shady garden of the inn. A murmur started among the other customers, Sharû tried to ignore it. He jumped a little when the innkeeper showed up next to them. “Lord Ecthelion, a pleasure to see you. What can I bring you and your guest to drink?” “House white for me.” “Do you have beer?”, Sharû asked and the innkeeper nodded. He didn’t look directly at him but he also made no comment about the oddness of Ecthelion's guest.

Sharû opened the menu and squinted to concentrate. He could read tengwar, they had been taken up by the Maiar after the King came back from Aman, but they wrote it differentely here from what he was used to. “If you need help, tell me”, Ecthelion mumbled from behind his own menu.

“I can manage, thank you”, Sharû answered. “I’ll eat the medallions of pork. At least I know what mushrooms are.” Ecthelion smiled. “Don’t pretend. I know you have a very good vegetable garden on the Island.” Sharû laughed. “But we don’t have broccoli or asparagus.” “We can go to the market tomorrow and I’ll show you the diversity of vegetables.” Ecthelion winked at him and Sharû laughed.

“You said there’s a museum about the time of the Great Journey. I’m interested in that, if it won’t bore you too much.” He didn’t want to grate on him, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the time with Ecthelion. “Not at all. I was there last when I was a child.” Their drinks came and they ordered their meal. “Is there a special reason for your interest?”, Ecthelion asked and Sharû shrugged.

“My father...", he started hesitantly. "I believe that he was captured shortly before or during the journey, although he never really talked about it. I’d just like to know more about how he might have lived – before.” It was hard for him to talk about it. He’d never dared before, it had been too dangerous. He didn’t know exactly what a reaction he expected from Ecthelion but he was nervous.

“I can understand that. For me it was always a part of my past I was taught about, but for you it is new.” Ecthelion smiled at him. “I’m glad that I can accompany you while you experience it.” Sharû felt something warm inside him and smiled back. “Would you like to... talk about him? Your father?” Sharû shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not yet. I’m not used to mention my parents at all.” He gave him an apologetic glance but Ecthelion didn’t seem offended. “Of course. But don’t hesitate, if you ever want to, yes?”

Sharû nodded slowly. Friends, Ecthelion had said. He’d never had a friend with whom he could have talked about the things that moved him inside. Mo had come closest, he had trusted him like he hadn’t trusted any other superior, but he still had never completely confided in him. It felt good that he could now if he wanted.

“Thank you”, he said and because his thoughts had turned to Mo, he added: “Do you think they would allow me to visit Mo?” “I don’t see why not. But I think it would be best, if you wrote to Aule directly before you show up there.” They were silent for a while as they ate. Sharû sighed satisfied when the meat melted in his mouth. These elves could cook... he’d never eaten as well as in the days in Ecthelion’s company.

“Oh, you know Silwen, don’t you?”, Ecthelion said suddenly. “She’d surely deliver your message to Aule. I know that she travels regularly to Valmar.” “That sounds good. I didn’t think of that. Ecthelion, there's something, I want to ask.” Sharû sat up straighter. Ecthelion was helping him yet again and he thought it overdue to address that. “I want to thank you for accompanying me to Matil yesterday and that you do all this for me. Can I give you anything in return?” It felt strange to not be asked for payment. A part of him waited all the time to be made to pay the bill.

Ecthelion shook his head. “I understand why you’d think like that but it isn’t necessary. We are friends, at least I hope we are and you aren’t just bothering with me because you think you have to as return service.” Ecthelion spoke in a joking way, but Sharû felt that it still was a serious worry of him. “I like you, Ecthelion. I'm glad that you consider me your friend.” And Ecthelion’s beam let this warm feeling rise inside him again.

“Well, then this is simply what friends do together. And I accompanied you to Matil not only for your benefi, but also because Matil wanted me to. I’m glad that it went so well.” “Me too. I still can’t believe that we are getting off so easily. What we have now, I could have never imagined when we surrendered. And it’s thanks to you and your people. We thought we’d like to invite you to a feast to the Island to celebrate our new home.” “That’s a wonderful idea. I’ll gladly come and I’m sure many others will too.”

~*~*~

“My Lord, I’m sorry to disturb your meal, but your friend Gil and another elf are waiting outside and you said, you want to be informed immediately if he comes here”, Indo said and Ecthelion looked up from his breakfast. It was late morning already, but he indulged in these little luxuries now that he knew how much they were worth. “Bring them here. And please see to it that fresh tea is brought.”

Ecthelion had soon realised that his title and the big house discouraged many of his people to ask him for help, but Gil knew that he could always come to him and the common elves trusted him more easily. Ecthelion had seen the elf, Gil led in, before but he didn’t know his name. He looked like he had been outside all night and was close to tears.

“My lord”, the elf knelt down before Ecthelion could stop him. “I’m sorry for bothering you.” Ecthelion stood up and helped him back to his feet. “There’s no reason why you should kneel before me. What is your name?” Ecthelion led the elf to a chair and poured him a cup of tea. He invited Gil with a motion of the hand to serve himself.

“Dolthan”, the elf answered. “I’m pleased to meet you, Dolthan. How can I help you?” Dolthan started to cry and Ecthelion rubbed his back soothingly. “Whatever it is”, he said gently. “We’ll find a solution.” Sometimes it was only money, seed capital for a new beginning, but those were the easy cases. Much too often it was about families turning away, prejudices and wounds of the soul no one seemed to understand.

“I’m afraid of going home”, Dolthan finally sobbed. “I thought, I could do it. When I found my wife again, I thought I could live like before – as if it never happened – and she thinks so still, but... She is just like I remember her, but _I_ am not the same anymore. I can’t touch her without thinking of what... what they did to us. I feel so dirty. I don’t deserve to be with her. And the store... each time someone comes in, my heart starts to race. I can’t take it anymore!” Dolthan sobbed.

“I simply left yesterday. I locked the store and left and walked through the town the whole night because I couldn’t bear it anymore. It’s just too much! I’m sorry, I don’t want to waste your time, but Gil said you can help me.” “None of us could waste my time”, Ecthelion said gently. “You are my comrade and we don’t desert our comrades. I’ll do everything in my power to help you. Do I understand you right that you still want to be with your wife?”

“Yes!” Dolthan looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “Of course I want that, but... I’m so afraid that she won’t understand. We never talked about... it.” Ecthelion nodded slowly. “You can stay here for as long as you want. Gil can tell your wife, so she knows she doesn’t need to worry and you didn’t just vanish.” Dolthan winced. “You didn’t come home tonight”, Ecthelion said gently. “She’ll have noticed that something is wrong, now if not before. But Gil won’t tell her anything you don’t want her to. Will you, Gil?”

Gil looked up from his breakfast he was busy devouring. “Of course not”, he answered and ate on. Ecthelion knew it wasn’t indifference for Dolthan’s pain, but none of them would miss out on a meal. “And I know someone who you can talk to about your fears”, Ecthelion continued. “It is an injury of the fea that can be healed just like an injury to the hroa.” They were only at the beginning of understanding it, there had never been such hard cases before.

Many of the Stayers thought that those who suffered so should give up their bodies and seek healing in Mandos. Ecthelion was furious at such a narrow minded opinion. No one had shunned him for surviving his burns. A friend of his mother, a healer who had researched the tiredness some women felt after giving birth, had offered to treat the Angband-Elves and Ecthelion only heard good things about him from the elves he sent to him. Much of what he did was trying around with different methods, but he was empathetic and he made them feel that he took them seriously and Ecthelion knew how important that was.

“But it’s expensive.” “ _You_ don’t have to pay anything. The king bears all costs, don’t worry.” Finarfin had made good on his promise to help where he could. “I know.” Dolthan hunched his shoulders. “I heard about it, but... how can I expect the _king_ to pay for my problems.” Ecthelion shook his head, but he didn’t allow his frustration to show. So many of the elves he talked with thought like Dolthan. So many Gil had to almost drag to him because they were afraid to impose on him.

It was because of the way the Stayers and some of the former exiled Noldor, too, treated them. They were back in Aman, back where they belonged and no wound could be so bad that it didn’t heal here ‘on its own’. Most of the Noldor wanted to forget what was behind them and the Angband-Elves with their scars, physical and psychicological, were an all too visible reminder. But healing didn’t work that way. And given the fact that there were orcs living on Tol Eressea, simply forgetting the past was impossible, Ecthelion thought.

He was glad that the Valar had finally come to a decision about them and had given Tol Eressea to Sharû and his men. He was surprised every time he visited Sharû how much they were flourishing in this new life. It only confirmed what he had known for a long time: They weren’t that different from elves. Ecthelion retrieved his thoughts to the matter at hand.

“It is a king’s duty to care for his subjects”, he said to Dolthan. “I think it would be good for you to talk to Cesanar, but I won’t force you, of course. Think about it and take as much time as you need. I’ll let a guest room be made ready and then you can rest.” Dolthan closed his eyes and his shoulders dropped. “Thank you, my lord.” Ecthelion squeezed his shoulder. “Can I leave you two to yourself for a moment?” Gil nodded and Ecthelion stood up to give instructions to Indo before he went to his mother to tell her they had a guest. He was sure she wouldn't mind.


	10. Chapter 10

Ecthelion sat at one of the high burning fires and ate grilled venison with his fingers. He hadn’t been sure, if it was a good idea to leave Dolthan but he knew the elf would only blame himself for keeping him from this party, he also had agreed a few days ago to meet Cesanar and had come back more calm.

Ecthelion listened to the singing of a group of elves who had decided that this feast had too little of it. Orcs, it had turned out, didn’t sing much, they mostly played percussion music and they were a little shy about performing before them. His gaze came to rest on Sharû who talked with Garam and Silwen, he was too far away to hear them above the music. Ecthelion smiled when he saw Sharû laugh at something. He looked happy.

“Did you bring your flute?”, Gil called to make himself heard above the talking and the music. Ecthelion patted his bag, making sure not to touch it with his greasy fingers. “Of course.” They often made music at evening in the camp and whenever he found the time he went there. When he was asked, he played. He had acquired a repertoire of melodies that weren’t as classical as what he was used to – like the songs the musicians were playing right now.

The sindarin and avarin influence among the Angband-Elves was audible. Songs to be sung together, not concert music, no long intricate poems told by one person. Solidarity, community, what they needed so much. “I’ll miss this once the houses are finished. I don’t suppose we’ll be sitting around one fire in the evenings then”, Gil said a little wistfully.

“One would need to...” Ecthelion stopped before saying too much and promising something he couldn’t keep. “I have an idea, but I’ll have to talk to my mother about it. It’s her house, I can’t fall upon her with you all.” “Ooh!” Gil’s eyes glinted. “That sounds like you have a plan.” Ecthelion shrugged. “We’ll see.”

He took another sip of the strong beer the orcs brewed and stood up. “Before I’m too drunk to play properly, let’s see if the people want to listen to me.” He winked at Gil. “May I relieve you?”, he asked the musicians once they’d ended their current song. “Of course you can!” They grinned at him.

Sharû watched enchanted Ecthelion playing his flute. He had started slowly but then picked up speed and now his fingers were flitting over the finger holes of the instrument. Some elves had started to dance, matching his speed and the others were clapping in time. Eventually Ecthelion gave up with a laugh. He was breathing quickly and a bead of sweat ran down his temple.

Sharû caught himself imagining to lick it off his skin, to hold him and feel his breath against his chest. For a moment he allowed the thoughts, but then Ecthelion looked at him and smiled and he pushed it away. Ecthelion was his friend and he surely wouldn’t like being the protagonist of his sexual fantasies. He came over and grinned at him and the smell of his sweat made it even harder for Sharû to force his thoughts into save terrain. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m the host, I don’t have time for fun”, Sharû answered laughing. “I like to hear you play. But I suppose you are often told that.” Ecthelion laughed. “I have a certain fame, yes, but I’m still glad to hear that you like it. Do you have another beer for me?” “Did we convert the wine drinker? My brewers will be elated!” “Ah, I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s not bad at all.”

Ecthelion accepted the full glass and licked after a first sip the foam from his upper lip. Sharû’s thoughts were turning indecent again. “Thank you for the invitation. I think we can call this a success.” “I... think so, too”, Sharû stammered, his thoughts still dwelling on Ecthelion’s tongue and where he’d have liked to feel it. Luckily his friend didn’t seem to have noticed anything. He really needed to do something to get these thoughts out of his mind or he’d risk their friendship!

Ecthelion smiled at his mother, who stood up from the couch to meet him. “How was the party?” She kissed his cheek. “Great. Wild. I had a lot of fun. How is Dolthan?” Ecthelion sat down with her. “His wife has been here every day, I think they’ll be fine. I talked with her. She says, if she’d known what’s the matter, she’d never let him work in the shop, but they’ve always taken turns, she didn’t imagine it could be a problem. She says, yesterday he showed her the first new sketch he made since they met again, he only redid old designs before. I think that’s a good sign.”

“Sounds like it, yes. That’s good.” Ecthelion breathed a sigh of relief. “Have you seen their works?”, Nivwen continued. “Beautiful reverse glass paintings. I intend to buy some of their works and promote them a little.” “That would certainly be appreciated. Can I ask something else of you, amme?” The idea hadn’t left his mind since the party. “But tell me no, if you feel uncomfortable with it. You are doing so much for us already.”

Nivwen squeezed his hand. “What is it, son?” “My people like to make music together at evening, but now that all the houses are going to be finished in the near future, there maybe won’t be a place for it. Sure, there’ll be an inn or two but things are still going to change. I wondered, if I could use the ballroom once a month for a gathering. I want them to have a place where they can meet and make music together. And maybe it also will help to get rid of this barrier between me and them. I could imagine that it would be easier to ask me for help, if they are already here, most shy away from knocking on our door.” People usually approached him when he was in the camp. Ecthelion wanted to make it as easy as possible for them.

Nivwen laughed. “ _You_ want to host musical evenings? The parties you had in the past tended to be much more inappropriate.” “It’s not going to be what you understand by that.” Ecthelion winked at her. “Our music is a little... unusual.” “Can I be there? I’d like to listen.” “Of course. So you are saying yes?” “Did you doubt it?” Nivwen kissed his cheek again. “It’s a nice idea.” She hesitated. “Are those orcs going to come, too?” Ecthelion could see that she tried to keep any judgement out of her voice.

“Not all at once and I think they’d be hesitant. I wouldn’t want to shut them out, but if you...” Nivwen shook her head. “I know that Sharû is your friend. I just...” She shrugged. “I guess, I can’t understand it.” Ecthelion smiled sadly. “You are not the only one. At least you aren’t telling me, it’s not possible. Maybe there’ll be an opportunity for you and Sharû to meet in the future. I think, you’d like him.”

“Maybe, yes. He has to be a decent guy, if this is working.” “He is.” Ecthelion looked away because he didn’t trust his face to not show his feelings. He didn’t want his mother to notice how much Sharû meant to him. “Thank you for letting me have the room.” He licked his lips. “There’s something else, I wanted to discuss. You are doing so much for us, things that help my people a lot – and you are providing my income. I don’t want you to think I’d want to take away something from you, but if you’d like my help with the management of the property... I’ll soon have more time on my hands and I think, I should do something for my income.”

“That’s nice of you, Ecthelion. But it’s not necessary. I’ve done this alone for quite some time.” “I know, and I didn’t want to insinuate that you can’t do it, but...” “I know you didn’t mean it that way. I like that work." Nivwen shrugged with a smile. "I had to learn it out of necessity, but it grew on me and I don’t want to give it away. I’m actually quite proud of it.”

Ecthelion smiled at her. “I’m sure you can be, I get the feeling that we are well off.” “We are. Take care of your people, see to it that people like Dolthan aren’t overlooked and you more than deserve your income.” Ecthelion leaned his cheek on her shoulder, his heart brimming over with love for her. “Thank you, amme. You are the best.”

~*~*~

“Still doubts about their intentions, brother?”, Sharû asked Zak during a short break in their work, they were currently digging cellars for the new houses. He offered his brother a waterskin which Zak took gratefully. “No, but you have to admit that it was natural to doubt.” “Maybe.” Sharû leaned his head back and let his face be warmed by the sun. He’d come to enjoy her light. “But I was sure that Ecthelion has good intentions.”

Zak huffed. “You and that elf... you’re constantly in his company since we are working here. Is there something going on with you two?” Sharû looked sharply at him. If even Zak noticed it... “Nonsense!”, he snapped. “You don’t believe that one of them would voluntarily have sex with one of us!” Saying it hurt a lot more than he’d thought, as if it made the fact more real.

“But you are interested.” Zak leered at him. “Does it matter if it won’t lead to anything? He is my friend and that is the best thing that happened to me – and us all, I want to mention – since a long time. Stop asking these questions!” Zak lifted his hands placatingly. “Sorry. Since when are you so sensitive? I just wanted to tease you a little.”

Sharû rubbed his forehead. Zak’s remarks had hit too close to home. “I didn’t want to snap at you. I just have so much on my mind and desire for Ecthelion doesn’t suit my plans even if no one is teasing me.” Zak patted his shoulder. “Maybe you just need a holiday, big brother. Once we are finished here you should visit Estel. Don’t tell Ithrû,” he scanned their surroundings exaggeratedly, “but it is really nice there.”

“I thought he dragged you there against your wish?” “He did and he still owes me one for it, that’s why I say: Don’t tell him I said this. But I stayed because I liked it there. The forest is somehow different – different from anything I’ve seen before – it feels so... alive. At first that made me nervous, but once you get used to it it’s... invigorating. And his wife’s family are alright, too. Visit them, take a break.”

“But once we are finished here, we wanted to build our own houses. Maiwe...” “Oh, come on!”, Zak interrupted him. “That’s almost settled, let your captains deal with it.” Sharû took a sip from his skin. Yes, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a break. He'd promised Estel to visit him a while ago – and it might be good to not see Ecthelion for a few weeks. He needed to stop desiring him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a big fan of social media that's why I don't have a tumblr, but if you'd like to talk in private or just say hi, you can now send me an email to _chrissystriped [at] web [dot] de_


	11. Chapter 11

Ecthelion laughed when Sharû flopped down on the bench at the riverside with a groan. He had met him at the building site, the houses grew swiftly thanks to the help of the orcs. “Sore muscles?”, he asked. “You have no idea! No, scratch that, of course you do.” Sharû rubbed his shoulders. “It is tiring, maybe more so than drilling – at least I feel some muscles ache I didn’t even know I had – but...” Sharû gaze travelled out on the water. “It is somehow satisfying to see the result of our efforts at the end of the day. You know what I mean?”

Ecthelion nodded. “Yes. Although for me it’s usually not something tangible. But if I can see that my people are happy, I know that I did good.” “We would have helped you with this, even if Matil hadn’t demanded it”, Sharû suddenly said. “Should I have told him? Isn’t that against the spirit of it? It feels dishonest to hide it.” Ecthelion shook his head. “I thought you might help us, if I’d asked. But Matil thought of it first and I think it pointless to rub in their faces that you are decent enough to help without being forced.

Would they have demanded something else, if they’d known? Some maybe, but ultimately this is about giving them compensation and that’s what they get. If it makes you feel better, you can talk to Matil, but I wouldn’t worry too much, if I were you. You don’t cheat, you do something good here.” Sharû sighed and smiled at him. “I hoped you’d see it that way, but I didn’t want to say nothing.”

“You’re a good sort, Sharû.” Ecthelion playfully nudged him with his elbow and Sharû almost jumped off the bench. “Sorry”, he said surprised at the intense reaction. “I didn’t want to startle you.” “It’s okay.” Sharû rubbed the spot and Ecthelion wondered if he’d hit him harder than he’d intended. “No harm done. Estel wants me to visit him in his forest”, he changed the topic. “Ithrû’s been there twice since we are free. I think, once we paid our debt here, I want to go there.”

“Is Estel going to pick you up?” “Oh, I’m sure he’ll rush here, if I write him that I have time. He’s very keen on introducing me to all his family.” Sharû smiled gently and Ecthelion wanted to bow forward and kiss those lips. He checked himself and said instead: “That’s a good idea. You deserve some rest.” “Oh, look who’s talking!” Sharû laughed at him.

“I didn’t say that I’m any better”, answered Ecthelion with a chuckle. He knew that he was worrying too much sometimes. His people were doing well, but there were enough problems to keep him occupied. “How is your guest? Dolthan, was it?” Ecthelion nodded. “Better. His wife visits regularly and while she’s understandably confused, he kept very quiet about everything that happened to him, it doesn’t look like she wants to desert him. I’m sure they can work it out in time.”

“It’s good to hear that things get better – for all your people, but especially for those who have been hurt. I know, there’s probably not much I can do, but if there ever is, tell me.” Ecthelion nodded. “I...”

“Ecthelion! Quick, we need you!” Matil came running across the meadow that separated the new building grounds from the river and Ecthelion jumped to his feet. “What’s wrong? What happened?” “There’s this guy! With a hammer! He barged in and attacked the first orc that crossed his way.” “What!” Sharû had jumped up and Ecthelion could see Matil shrink back a little at the look on his face. He started to run and Ecthelion and Matil followed him.

“Sharû, wait!”, Ecthelion called and his friend slowed a little. “What did you do with him?”, Ecthelion asked Matil. “We locked him in one of the tool sheds but I have no idea, what to do now. He didn’t sound like he meant to simply walk away again!”

An agitated crowd of elves and orcs stood around the shed. “Who was injured?”, Sharû asked one of his men. “Gurush, the elf broke his arm. We brought him into one of the finished houses, Erad is with him.” Sharû nodded and patted the orc’s shoulder. “I’ll check in on them”, he told Ecthelion.

“Do you need a healer?”, Ecthelion asked. “I could...” But Sharû’s face closed up and he shook his head. “We’ll manage.” Ecthelion was surprised at his gruff reply, but he needed to concentrate on the problem at hand. The shed’s wall trembled at a punch of the resident, who was clearly not happy to be locked up. A constant stream of curses could be heard, some to Ecthelion’s surprise in Molyanoldorin – and the voice sounded familiar.

“Do you have the weapon?” Matil looked around and soon a long-handled warhammer was turned up. Ecthelion groaned inwardly. “I think, I know who we have here”, he said. “Rog, is that you?”, he called through the locked door. The ruckus stopped abruptly and he saw a few elves sigh in relief. “Ecthelion? Let me out!”

“Only if you promise not to attack anyone.” Silence. Ecthelion held his breath. Then: “Fine.” “Matil, the key.” Matil gave it to him before quickly putting distance between him and the shed, he obviously didn’t want to stand too close when Ecthelion let the maniac out. Ecthelion opened the door and looked into a face he knew and at the same time didn’t. He had never seen Rog without the scars someone had carved into his cheeks in his time in Angband.

“Before you say anything, lets discuss this in private”, he said when Rog opened his mouth. He was relieved when the elf followed him without argument to one of the half-finished houses nearby. It didn’t have doors, yet, but they’d have enough privacy in the backrooms.

“What were you thinking?”, Ecthelion snapped at Rog as soon as they were alone. “You can’t come here and attack random people!” “ _People_? Orcs! I heard about this and I couldn’t believe that anyone who’d been a slave could ever agree to such an thing. What are _you_ thinking to let these monsters live in your midst?”

“They are not monsters! Wasn’t it you who ‘entertained’ us in Gondolin with stories about how orcs are made? Their ancestors were elves – damn it! – some of _them_ were elves.” “Murderers, torturers, rapists!”, Rog growled. “Slave drivers! They don’t deserve to live!” “Do you hear yourself talk? I know what they did, we all do! But you can’t sentence a whole people to death.”

Ecthelion took a deep breath. “It was war, Rog! They were taught to hate us as we were taught to hate them. But it can be different, they proved it. They helped us escape, saved our lives. They are building these houses for us to make up for the wrong they did.” Rog huffed. “Hardly an adequate compensation for all the suffering they caused.”

“And that’s your decision?”, Ecthelion snapped at him. “You don’t have the right, neither do I. We decided together what their reparations should be comprised of.” Ecthelion hesitated to tell him about the other agreement Sharû and Matil had come to. Rog was in a bloodthirsty mood, maybe he could talk to him about it another time under better circumstances. To keep it from him entirely felt wrong.

“Rog, we never got along very well and I admit that was to a large part because I didn’t want to understand what had happened to you. I do now, I was there. I’m sorry for mocking you, that was dishonourable. I ask you now, don’t force me to bring this matter to the king’s notice, I’ll try to convince Sharû to let the matter go, if you swear to not attack an orc again. You broke the arm of an innocent person!”

Rog curled his lip. “None of them is innocent! Who is Sharû?” “Their leader. My friend.” Rog shook his head. “I won’t attack them again, but don’t come running if something goes wrong. You can’t negotiate with these monsters, or... be their _friend_.” He made it sound like a curse. “And I want my weapon back.”

Ecthelion sighed. “I’ll come with you back to the city and give it back to you there.” Rog nodded curtly. “Let’s go. The sooner I get out of here, the better.” Ecthelion would have felt better, if he could have talked to Sharû before, but he felt that it wouldn’t be a good idea to let the two of them come too close and he couldn’t lock Rog up. He fetched the hammer, Matil looked like he’d grown a second head when he asked for it, and walked Rog back to the city.

“Since when are you...” “Alive again?”, Rog asked with a huff. “Quite some time. Don’t forget that the curse never applied to me. I live in the north, near Mandos. There are a few others who settled in the woods there, but we leave each other alone, the area is large enough. Those of us who live in families have settled down more southwards in Orome’s woods.” Ecthelion nodded, Rog had always been something of a loner. “I know, a few of my people moved there.”

“ _Your_ people?” Rog cocked an eyebrow at him and Ecthelion shrugged. “Not in the sense that they owe me fealty, but they made me their leader and... well, we all usually say ‘us’.” Ecthelion hesitated. “You could belong to us, too, if you wanted. We share a past.” Rog shook his head decisively. “I live alone. Always have, when I could and I want it that way. No offence.” Ecthelion shrugged. “As you wish.”

They’d reached the old Tirion and he gave him his weapon. “Don’t hesitate to knock on my door, if you are in town.” “I’m not that often, but thank you.” Rog sighed. “I didn’t mean to cause problems, Ecthelion, but... I heard about it, and my mind went blank. I still don’t approve of it, it makes me angry to think they should get away so lightly, but I won’t attack them again.” Ecthelion nodded. “That’s good to hear.”

“You let him _go?_ ” Ecthelion was for a moment afraid, that Sharû would attack him, but then the orc took a deep breath and stepped back. “Why?”, he asked more calmly but still with a growl in his voice. “I can’t detain him, Sharû, I don’t have the authority.” “Matil says you know him.” “That, too, and I promised him to ask you to let it go, but if you want him to be brought to trial, I’ll help you with it. We can go to the palace immediately and ask for an audience with King Arafinwe. How is your man?”

“Simple fracture, it’s splinted and going to heal without problems, says Erad. He got hold of a barrel lid he used as a shield or it might have been much worse.” Sharû growled again then he caught himself. “Sorry for frightening you.” Ecthelion shook his head. “It’s fine. What do you say? Do we get an appointment with the king?”

Sharû slowly shook his head. “I don’t want more attention on us than necessary. He won’t come back?” “He won't. He promised.” “Then I’ll trust your and his word. Who is he?” “Rog? He was one of the other Lords of Gondolin.” Ecthelion shrugged. “Rog.” Sharû stared at him. “ _The_ Rog.”

“You know him? He wreaked havoc in the battle, I suppose...” “No, that’s not what I meant. You don’t know?” Ecthelion shook his head. “Can’t say I knew him all that well. He's not a Noldo, came to Nevrast one day and stayed with Turgon. Said, he'd escaped from Angband.”

“I never encountered him personally”, Sharû said with a shudder, “and I’m quite glad of that, I assure you, but there were stories. A slave who escaped but didn’t run as far and fast as he could, but hid in the mountains to kill any orc who was foolish enough to get caught alone. He made a... uh, spectacle of them. They say he called himself Rog, to teach the monsters of Angband fear. There was a high price on his head and eventually he vanished. It was said he was killed, but looks like he was clever enough to know when to leave.”

Ecthelion swallowed. “I... never knew. He wouldn’t say what his real name was or why he called himself that.” He shook his head and felt the urge to run after Rog and hear his story, but he knew that Rog would be long gone by now. And searching him in his wood would be useless, Rog would find him, if he ever wanted to.


	12. Chapter 12

“Come on”, Estel called laughing, “the water won’t bite you!” He stood hip-high in the water of the lake and gave him a challenging look. “Are you so sure about that?”, Sharû called back. The summer sun burned on Sharû’s naked shoulders. He was almost regretting that he’d asked Estel to teach him, but when he’d seen him and his family having so much fun in the water, the desire to be able to swim had been bigger than his fear.

“Ithrû learned it, too.” Estel grinned as if he knew that the good-natured rivalry among brothers would make it impossible for Sharû to pull out. Sharû sighed and walked into the lake, careful to not lose his footing on the gravel lake floor. The water was cool but not cold, pleasant on this warm day. The surface was calm, calmer than he’d ever seen the sea.

He stopped nervously when he noticed his feet lifting from the floor. “Estel?”, he said nervously. “That’s called buoyancy. If you do it right, the water carries you. Try to lie on your back.” Sharû stared at him. “But I’ll sink!” Estel shook his head. “The water will carry you”, he repeated. “And I’ll be here. Trust me.” “I do.” Sharû took a deep breath and lowered himself backward, Estel’s hands bracing him.

It was frightening to lose the ground, his legs twitched, but Estel’s hands supported him. “Stretch your arms to your sides, lift your stomach, breathe deeply. Do you feel that you are floating?” Sharû nodded because he didn’t trust his voice, his heart was trying to jump out of his mouth. But he _was_ floating, he didn’t trust the situation completely, his distrust for water was rooted too deep, but it felt strangely good.

He soon noticed that small motions had large effect on how heavy he lay on Estel’s hands and tried around until he felt like he was stable on his own. Estel laughed. “You’re learning quickly. Don’t forget that you can stand here.” And then his hands were gone and Sharû’s heart started to race again, because nothing was holding him. “Don’t move quickly, stay calm”, Estel said and because Sharû was a soldier and used to function in stressful situations, he pushed the panicked reactions of his body away and followed Estel’s advice.

Soon he’d found a stable position again and took a relieved breath. He moved his legs a little to stay afloat. “That’s actually fun!”, he said and Estel laughed. “Of course it is. Are you ready for a real swimming lesson?” “If you tell me how to get back on my feet.” “Just move them downwards.” Sharû was surprised how quickly his feet hit the floor, he’d forgotten how shallow the water was here.

Later they lay on the shore and let the sun dry their skin and hair. Sharû had closed his eyes, feeling tired, and his body was still leading him to believe that he was moved by waves. His throat hurt from the water he’d swallowed, he’d sunk a few times, but he was in cheerful spirits. He’d been able to make a few swim strokes alone at the end.

“I’m relieved that you want to learn it”, Estel said suddenly. “To be honest, I was a little nervous with you non-swimmers on an island.” “I don’t feel that calm on a ship either”, Sharû said and laughed uneasily. “Although I don’t think that I’ll dare to swim in the sea so soon.” “Might be better.” Estel nodded approvingly. “The sea is not the same as a little forest lake.”

Estel stretched contentedly and Sharû looked at his tattooed arm. “What do they mean, your needle pictures?” “Maenas, the elves call it”, Estel said. He touched the spot where it started, a little under his armpit. “My belonging to my family”, he slid his fingertip slowly down. “The first deer I brought down; the first bow I built; my skill in tracking; my wedding; the birth of our son; the finding of my brothers.” Estel smiled at him. “Our Maenais tell the story of our lives.”

Sharû rubbed his chest where a pattern of lines and dots reported his career and the number of his kills. “I wish I could make it go away”, he said softly. “I’m not proud of it.” Estel cocked his head and tapped one of the marks.

“Not even of that?” Colonel. “You told me why the Maia promoted you. It wasn’t because you were especially cruel or because you got the most out of the slaves. He did it because you have a good heart. And I think that is something you can be proud of. I’ll never forget how you put your life at risk to give me my freedom.” Estel squeezed his shoulder. “It’s over, Sharû. You can live your life now, however you want.”

“And if I don’t know what I want?” ‘Ecthelion’, his not very helpful mind interjected. He shook his head. “You’ll figure it out.” Estel stood up and offered him his hand. “I think we should go back, they’ll wonder where we are.”

A stranger sat with Estel’s family when they came back to the camp. Sharû tensed, unsure how she’d react to an orc in their midst. Estel’s family had received him friendly, Ithrû had obviously dispersed any doubts they might have had at his many visits, but they had warned him to leave the camp alone because not all their neighbours were pleased about their orcish visitors.

Andsal, Estel’s father-in-law waved at them. “That is my son Estel you asked after and his brother Sharû. Estel, this is Aiwiel, she’s come a long way to talk to you.” She had silver hair tied up in a bun, her bow and arrow leaned on a nearby house wall but at her belt was a long knife. Sharû stood a little back when Estel greeted her. “Well met, Aiwiel. What can I do for you?”

“I heard you name Faranwe your father”, she said and Sharû flinched. He stepped to his brother and hissed in his ear: “You told them his name?” Estel looked surprised at him. “Why not?” His face turned gentle. “Sharû, there’s no reason to hide from them that he remembered. It doesn’t mean danger for anyone.”

“Yes, of course.” But the elvish name of his father and that he remembered some of his past had been a secret for so long that it felt to Sharû like a betrayal of trust. Estel laid his hand on his shoulder. “We both are his sons.” Aiwiel breathed in sharply, only when Sharû looked at her again did he realise how nervous she was. Her hands trembled.

“So... it is true that the Black Hunter took him and...” She stared at Sharû with horror in her eyes. “He was turned into an orc, yes!”, Sharû hissed in anger. “How is that any of your business?” “He was my father, too”, she whispered, tears in her eyes. “When I heard that someone calls himself his son, I thought...” She shook her head and turned away.

“Aiwiel...” Estel threw Sharû a glance that clearly said: ‘Was that necessary?’ “You wanted to find out, what happened to him?”, he continued gently. Sharû was ashamed for making her cry. If he’d known who she was... but looks of the kind she had given him, always raised his ire. He realised now that they hadn’t been for him, but for their father’s fate.

It had always grieved him that his father had been in pain all his life as an orc, but it had been a steady knowledge. He couldn’t imagine how she felt right now, with the knowledge of what had been done to her father crashing down on her. “I never believed that he left mother because she wanted to come here and he didn’t – and without a word at that! – but when I heard that I maybe had a brother who’d lived in Arda all these years... I would have preferred that to the truth.”

She breathed deeply and turned around to them. “But I came here to meet my brother and you _are_ my brothers – both of you. Estel, Sharû, I’m glad to meet you.” Sahrû was surprised at how quickly she seemed to have accepted the truth, but when he shook her hand and looked into her eyes, he realised that she was only showing them a brave facade. He nodded at her, he could respect that.

“You are the leader of the orcs on the island, aren’t you?”, she said to him. “Mother and I live in Alqualonde, I saw you at the harbour once or twice.” Sharû nodded. “May I ask... if it isn’t rude, how it can be that you and Estel are so... different.” Sharû huffed amused. “It isn’t rude. I can’t really say, but now and then the elvish blood turned out to be stronger. He was lucky to have a twin brother so we could hide him or he’d have been killed or enslaved.”

Estel laughed. “He makes it sound so easy. Do you want to hear how it comes that I live here today and call Andsal my father?” Aiwiel’s smile was still a little watery, but she nodded. They sat down a little apart from the others, Estel’s family gave them space, and Estel told her his story. Sharû let him talk although it always embarrassed him a little that he was the hero in Estel’s eyes. Even Mo, who had made his escape possible in the end, sounded scary in his tale – and he probably had been for Estel.

“You freed him although it could have cost your life?”, Aiwiel asked him surprised. Sharû shrugged awkwardly. “What else was I to do? He is my brother and I love him.” Aiwiel blushed. “It’s just... the things we hear about you – orcs – are not... I don’t want to insult you.” “I can imagine.” Sharû smiled wryly. “I won’t lie, we earned our reputation. We were what our Masters turned us into, some of us liked that more than others. But I had a family, we had parents who loved us and a mother who told us elvish tales. Many of my men have slaves as mothers. We did a lot of bad things, we want to do better now, if we are allowed to.”

Aiwiel nodded slowly, Sharû didn’t know if it was approval of his words. “Did he ever talk about us?”, he asked in a small voice. Estel gave him a helpless look and Sharû sighed heavily. “Aiwiel... The elf, who was your father and the orc, who was our father... it wasn’t the same person. He was _changed_. He...” There really wasn’t a way to break this gently to her. Sharû stared ahead without really seeing anything.

“I was born like this, it doesn’t pain me, but he was turned into an orc. They cut him open and sewed him together again and his body gave him pain his whole life, although he tried to hide that. If they’d known that he remembered even his name, they’d have tortured him even more. He shouldn’t have remembered anything about his old life and I can’t tell you how much he knew. Maybe he told mother, he could talk to her more openly than to anyone else, but he never told his children about his former life.”

“Let’s hope that his soul found the way to Mandos and found peace there”, Estel said with husky voice. Aiwiel stood up suddenly. “I’m sorry, I have to... I need to be alone.” They followed here with their eyes as she walked quickly to one of the houses. Andsal threw them a questioning look but Estel shook his head. Yes, it was probably best to give her some privacy. “It must be hell to hear all that.”

Sharû nodded. “Is it awful of me to wonder if he loved her mother more than ours?” Estel gave him a startled look. “I... I don’t know. And I think... You said yourself that he wasn’t the same. I think, he loved them both. Mother made him as happy as he could be under the circumstances.” He shook his head. “I need something strong now.” “Me too.” Sharû followed him to the pantry where they also had bottles of liquor made from various berries, not that Sharû cared right now, what it was made of, as long as it was strong.

Sharû stumbled from the house he had slept in and rubbed his burning eyes. His head was throbbing. Estel and he had abundantly indulged in the liquor yesterday. He was just reviving himself with the help of a bucket of water when he heard soft steps behind him and whirled around. Aiwiel stepped back startled by his sudden movement. “I didn’t want to startle you”, she said. “I’m sorry for running off yesterday, but...”

“You don’t have to apologise for that.” Sharû wiped the water from his face. “I wasn’t very tactful. I’m surprised that you’d want to talk to me at all.” Aiwiel gave him a lopsided smile. “You told me the truth where others might have beat around the bush. It hurts, but I wanted to know and I’m relieved that I do now. Maybe you and Estel can tell me a bit about your family life, if you don’t mind.”

Sharû hesitated, his old survival instinct warned him against it but he pushed it aside. What had he to lose by telling her? Nothing. But a sister to win. “I’ll gladly do that”, he said and smiled at her. “And if you want, you can visit me on the Island and meet your other two surviving brothers.” “That... yes, maybe I’ll really do that.” She smiled back cautiously. “I have a brother, too, but he’s at sea a lot and I’m not sure at all what he’ll think of this.”

“Are you going to tell your mother?”, Sharû asked and Aiwiel nodded slowly. “I have to, although I don’t look forward to this conversation.” Sharû could understand that. “Let’s see if Estel is awake already and we can get to know each other over breakfast?” She nodded her assent and Sharû turned to Estel’s house. He liked Aiwiel and although he was still wondering, how his father would have decided, if he’d had the choice between his two families, he decided he wouldn't let this thoughts colour the way he treated her. It was not her fault – it was their father’s fault either.


	13. Chapter 13

When Sharû met Ecthelion for the first time after his visit with Estel, he knew immediately that his absence had been for nothing in that regard. He had been successful in a lot of things – he had deepened his relationship with his little brother and his family, Estel’s son almost hadn’t let him leave, he could swim now and maybe he had found a sister, Aiwiel had travelled with him to Alqualonde – but when he saw Ecthelion walk up the pier now, he realised that his body’s interest in him was as great as before.

“Did you have a nice holiday?”, Ecthelion asked cheerfully. “Yes, very.” Sharû clenched his fist to keep himself from reaching out and push a wayward strand behind Ecthelion’s ear. He tried to get a grip on himself. “May I invite you into my home?” His men had been busy in his absence. “It’s not what you are used to, of course”, he hurried to add when they walked up the little hill to the edge of the wood. “But for me it’s enough.”

His house stood in the same place as his tent had, the whole camp – village, he corrected himself, because it had started to look like that – could be overlooked and a little brook that flowed down to the bay provided fresh water. Ecthelion threw him a look that told him he was acting like a fool. “I won’t say I don’t appreciate the comforts of my home, but do you think I’d look down on you because your life is more simple?” He shook his head and sniffed. “Hm, smells good.”

The freshly wrought wood indeed smelled pleasant, Sharû had to admit. He offered Ecthelion his camp chair and sat down on his folding cot. “I don’t have furniture, yet, there’s not been time.” They had learned a lot while building houses for the Angband-Elves and a few of his men felt drawn to carpentry. Sharû smiled when he thought that the people who would live in this new village were becoming more and more like a real village community with different trades and not just a camp of soldiers who only knew about war.

He was proud of his men. He only wished they’d had the time to save their women, too. “What’s wrong?” Ecthelion with his intuition for feelings had noticed immediately that something darkened his mood – if even for a moment. Sharû sighed. “I’m wondering what became of our women. They were too far away to fetch them when everything went to pieces. One of my captains went to warn them but I don’t know what happened to them and I can’t help thinking that they’d have been better off here than wherever they are now.”

“I think, I never met a female orc”, Ecthelion said reluctantly. “You were in the wrong part of Angband.” Sharû shrugged. “They provided us with food, farmed crop that did grow even that far north, tended sheep and goats. No slaves, the king wanted you for the war machinery and it would have been too easy to run from the valleys, I think.” “Was it a decision between them and us?”, Ecthelion asked softly, he looked worried.

Sharû shook his head. “Not in the sense that we could have brought them here, had we left you. It simply was too far, we could have decided to go to them, try to run from the Valar’s army and seek our luck in Arda. If I’d known that we wouldn’t be killed on sight, I’d have told Mardag to bring them to the Valar’s camp, but... Do you want something to drink? Beer?” Sharû got up and vanished in the small larder. “Gladly!”, Ecthelion called after him.

Sharû breathed deeply, he didn’t want Ecthelion to see how much it affected him that he hadn’t been able to rescue them, he was already noticing much too much. Ecthelion took the glass with a thank. “I’m here to invite you to a party. Did I tell you that we are going to meet at my home once a month to make music and have fun?” Sharû nodded. “You did. You want _me_ to be there? Do your people know?”

“Of course, I told them. Will you come?” Sharû drank slowly, buying time. He didn’t know if he was ready for that. “Are you sure that is a good idea?” Ecthelion shrugged. “Why shouldn’t it be? We all get along quite well, aren’t we?” “We do, but don’t you think some of them won’t be able to enjoy it if I’m there? I don’t want to spoil anyone’s evening.”

Ecthelion looked warmly at him and Sharû felt his heart beat quicker. “You won't. You are well liked among my people and with good reason. Please?" Sharû hid his face in his cup, Ecthelion _had_ to be unaware of what this look did to him. "Fine", he said quickly. "Am I going to be introduced to your mother?” He was almost more worried about that. Ecthelion thought the world of his mother, if she didn’t like him... “I hope so! Don’t worry, she’s going to like you.”

“I’ll have to rely on your assessment.” Sharû didn’t share Ecthelion’s optimism, he was almost regretting to have agreed but he wouldn’t back down now. Ecthelion put his glass on the floor beside him, leaned back and stretched his legs. “It’s good to see you again, Sharû. I missed you.” Sharû gulped. The part of him that was very aware that Ecthelion wasn’t part of his family, wondered how the elf could say something like that – make himself vulnerable – so easily, but the bigger part was just happy that he said it. “Missed you, too”, he murmured quickly before he could think better of it.

~*~*~

Sharû sat silently on the bench in front of Tarsh’s house and watched the old orc from the corner of his eye. He had asked him to come but he hadn’t said why and now they were just sitting here. It was night, the moon stood deep in the east. Sharû waited patiently. “I wanted to say goodbye to you”, Tarsh said suddenly. “Where are you going?”, Sharû asked surprised.

“Mandos”, Tarsh answered with a strange smile and Sharû stared at him. “ _What?_ ” “I’m done with acting as if I’m alright when my spine feels like a glowing hot wire is drawn through it. Do you know what elves do when they feel like hroa and fea don’t fit anymore?” Sharû nodded jerkily. “But... why now?”, he croaked. “Because life is good here and because I have hope again.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you want to die if you have hope?” Tarsh squeezed his hand. “You rescued us, Colonel. When you and the General decided to free the elves, you rescued us too. This is a good life, but I remember – I remember a lot more now than I did in Angband – I remember a life in the light of the stars, the silvery waters of a lake, the sound of water everywhere.

I did know nothing about Mandos, I was captured before Orome found our people, I only heard about it from the slaves and I was sure that I wouldn’t go there when I died – Morgoth would catch my soul and turn me into something even more horrible. Now I have hope that Namo will take me in. He is just – there’ll surely be punishment for me – but he isn’t cruel, there’s healing in Mandos, too.

I remember the face that looked back at me from the mirroring water. I had green eyes. I was fair haired.” Tarsh looked at Sharû. “I don’t believe that Mandos is the end for me. And even if it is... I can’t endure this hroa anymore.”

Sharû nodded and fought down his tears. “If that is what you want...” He cleared his throat when his voice broke. Tarsh laid his hand on his cheek. “It is not your fault, Sharû, you did everything right, but I need something different now. Enjoy your life. Please, go now.” Sharû squeezed Tarsh’s hand. “I hope you find what you long for.” Tarsh smiled at him and nodded.

As Sharû walked through the night back to his house, he knew that he wouldn’t see Tarsh alive again. It made him sad, he had hoped to not have to lose any of his men now that they lived in peace, but then he thought of Tarsh’s last smile and the hope in his eyes and it didn’t hurt as much anymore. It was Tarsh’s free will and he couldn’t be anything but glad that this road was open to him now, after so many years of suffering.


	14. Chapter 14

When Ecthelion came down to breakfast he found to his surprise that his mother and Sharû were already having an animated discussion about – he couldn’t believe it – poetry. He had introduced them yesterday and they had been very polite to each other but he hadn’t expected them to get along so well.

Ecthelion stopped before they could see him and listened, he didn’t want to interrupt them, and then he was flabbergasted when Sharû started to declaim in his deep voice in a language that sounded more like Vanyarin than his usual dialect. Ecthelion closed his eyes, his voice made him feel warm, he’d have liked to be woken by that... he shook his head. He hadn't thought that Sharû would let himself be persuaded to recite anything. But his mother was good with persuading others.

He entered the room when Sharû had finished. “Good morning. Don’t let me interrupt you.” Sharû lowered his eyes embarrassed. “That was good”, Ecthelion told him. “You have a nice voice.” Sharû threw him a sceptical glance. “His mother taught him”, Nivwen said and smiled friendly at Sharû. “I’ve never heard it quite that way. You should write those poems down.” Sharû shook his head. “I can’t imagine that anyone would be interested in poems half-remembered by an orc.” “There are people who research different versions of the old poems, I’m sure they’d be interested in getting to know you. I could introduce you.”

Ecthelion smiled. “My mother knows everyone. Don’t let her talk you into something you don’t want, but don’t think your memories are worthless. Anyway, how is it that I find you here talking about poetry? What did I miss?” “I couldn’t sleep and you said I could use the library.” Sharû shrugged. “Your mother found me there and... we started talking.” “You were right, Ehtele”, Nivwen said. “Sharû is really not so different from us and I’m glad to have made his acquaintance.”

Sharû looked embarrassed yet again but Ecthelion’s smile widened. “And I’m glad you see it that way, amme. He’s one of my best friends, after all.” Ecthelion gulped because he remembered again that almost all his former friends were dead, as was his father. What would he have said to his friendship with an orc? He hoped, they would be allowed to be rehoused soon now that the curse had been laid to rest.

“Ehtele? Are you alright?” His mother reached out to him. Ecthelion smiled bravely. “Yes, I was just thinking of father and Glorfindel, Elemmakil... all the others I lost.” Nivwen smiled sadly. “I’m sure the Valar are going to be as just to them as they were to you. We are going to see them again.”

Sharû sat motionless, as if he wanted to make himself invisible. “It isn’t your fault, Sharû”, Ecthelion told him. “You didn’t start this, you only fought in it as thousands of soldiers on both sides.” He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it any longer, you know my stance.” Sharû nodded, but Ecthelion could see in his eyes that he wasn’t convinced.

Ecthelion climbed on the stage, his mother on his arm and clapped his hands. The conversations of the crowd ceased only slowly. So many had come that they had opened the doors to the garden and into the entrance hall to make room. “My friends”, he said loudly using his commander voice that had been audible even in the thick of battle. “My friends, I’m happy to see you all tonight.”

Sharû stood a little out of the way and looked a little panicked, the only orc among elves, he would rescue him later. “I want to introduce my mother Nivwen, some of you already know her. She is our gracious host tonight. Mother”, he kissed her cheek, “I thank you for everything you did and still do for us.” The applause that surged up was so deafening that he didn’t understand his own words.

Ecthelion smiled widely and bowed to his mother who had blushed. He could see that she was as happy as him. He knew that some of his people weren’t here today because they dreaded the tumult, it was different from the camp fires and he hoped to find a way to include them despite of that, but right now he couldn’t help it to bask in his friends’ happiness.

“And now”, he cried, “I don’t want to talk any longer. Let us make music together.” He led his mother off the stage and said: “Will you stay?” “A little, maybe in the garden, there’s so many people in here.” “I’ll accompany you.” The conversations stopped completely when the first musicians started playing. Ecthelion didn’t know how many of the musicians among the Angband-Elves had stage experience, it would be new for many of them and it was different from sitting in a circle around a fire. But they were doing well and when everyone started to join in with the chorus, Nivwen gripped his arm tighter.

“Valar!”, she whispered. “That's something else.” “Community.” Ecthelion smiled at her. “It’s important for us to know that we are not alone.” They had made it to the garden where the crowd was less thick. “Can I leave you alone?” “Of course. Take care of your guests.” Nivwen kissed his cheek and Ecthelion looked out for Sharû while he smiled and waved at the people around him. He found him with Silwen and Garam.

“When did you come?”, he asked in the next break between musicians. He was sure he’d have noticed Silwen during his welcome speech, she had something that drew attention to her. “We were late. My wife couldn’t decide which dress to wear.” Garam rolled his eyes and Ecthelion laughed. “You look gorgeous, Silwen.” She wore a dress of cobalt silk brocade with a pattern of peacock feathers and real, dark green feathers at the neckline. He kissed her hand. “As I can’t claim I was never late for a party because I couldn’t decide what to wear, I won’t comment on that.”

“I hear you are a good customer. I wouldn’t mind contributing to your wardrobe.” Ecthelion grinned at her. “You talked with Lelya? I think she would be very angry with me, if you’d steal me from her.” Silwen shrugged and grinned back. “Worth a try.” “Anyway, I’m not as good a customer as I was. I still enjoy well made clothes, but I’m not as vain as I was.”

Ecthelion became aware that Sharû was examining him closely and turned to him. “Do you like what you see?” He’d dressed up today, as the occasion demanded in his opinion. He wore blue, too, lighter than Silwen’s, almost turquoise. “Maybe Silwen should sew for _you_.” Sharû shook his head decisively. “I prefer leather.” Silwen sighed theatrically. “Don’t bother, Ecthelion, these orcs are hopeless.”

Ecthelion laughed, but couldn’t return anything because the music started again. He just thought that he’d liked Sharû’s eyes on him. As if the musician knew his thought, he started to play a love song and for a moment Ecthelion lost himself in the thought of dragging Sharû into the next room and locking the door. Sharû’s lips on his, Sharû’s hands on his naked skin...

Ecthelion gulped and forced his thoughts back to the present. His body was reacting very obviously to his fantasies. But he couldn’t... he mustn’t! Maybe he could dare to approach him in a few years, Sharû and his men were getting more independent, and once his influence wasn’t as important to them anymore, he might be able to... but even then... did he really want to risk Sharû’s friendship? He shook his head. It was fruitless to worry about it now.

“Do you like it here?”, he asked when the song was over. Sharû nodded, his eyes were wide and happy. “It’s wonderful. Thank you for the invitation.” “You are always welcome, as are your men, though they probably shouldn’t come all together.” Ecthelion shrugged in apology, but Sharû didn’t take it amiss. “Yes, that might be too much. So... you had an extensive wardrobe when you were younger?”

Sharû smiled mockingly and Ecthelion grinned. “I was a young noble with way too much money on my hands. I loved picking fabrics, try new styles – be admired. I still like looking at fabrics, but I know now that my money is better used elsewhere and my time, too.” “But you wanted to put Silwen onto me?” Sharû was still smiling and Ecthelion laughed. “A few pretty clothes wouldn’t hurt you. But I know you don’t like to feel like a trained animal. I don’t care what you wear.” He wouldn’t have minded seeing him in nothing at all. Ecthelion bit the inside of his cheek. No, he wouldn’t say it, not even as a joke.

_To Sharû_

_My brother is home from a longer journey and mother and he would like to meet you. Please visit us, if you can find the time._

_Greetings,_

_Aiwiel_

The message had waited for him when he’d come home from Ecthelion’s party. Sharû had allowed himself to wait a day before travelling back to Alqualonde, but today he had boarded a boat – the first they had built with the help of the Solosimpi – and two of his men had ferried him over. It had aroused a small stir, but the Solosimpi weren’t hostile for the most part and his men had taken a few things to trade with them.

He’d left them at the harbour and followed Aiwiel’s directions to a house in a backstreet. It was a workshop and Aiwiel smiled at him when he entered. It smelled pungently of fish. Sharû wrinkled his nose and she laughed. “One get’s used to the smell. We make fish leather.” Sharû hadn’t known you could make leather from fish. “I’ll lock up quickly and we can go up. Mother and Faranwion are home.”

Sharû followed her silently to the living room where two elves waited who looked both very much like Aiwiel – apart from their hair, theirs was dark. Sharû wondered, if his father had been silver-haired once. “Mother, Faranwion, this is Sharû.” Their mother stood up slowly, her eyes trained on his face and stepped towards him. Sharû moved his shoulders nervously, her gaze was disconcerting and he didn’t know where to look. He jumped when she suddenly touched his cheek.

“You look like him”, she whispered and started to sob. Sharû didn’t know what to do, how to comfort the crying woman. It had never crossed his mind that he might take after his father. Aiwiel embraced her mother and murmured softly to her. Faranwion caught his gaze and slid inward on the corner bench, offering him a seat without a word. “I never knew my father”, he said softly. “He vanished when I was an infant. I didn’t want to believe it, when Aiwiel told us about you and your brothers, but judging from mother’s reaction...”

Aiwiel had sat down with her and she was dabbing the tears from her cheeks. “Please forgive my outburst. I didn’t expect...” She sniffled and shook her head. “You don’t have to apologise. I didn’t know I resemble him as he was before...” Sharû stopped. “Can I do anything for you?” He had imagined her as his mother’s rival – this woman who his father had loved first – but now he only saw how sad she was and although her openly shown grief was uncomfortable for him, it also touched him.

She shook her head. “I wanted to see you, wanted to hear from you what Aiwiel told us, but I don’t need that now. You _are_ his son, without any doubt. My name is Arasiel, I should have introduced myself before assaulting you.” Sharû shrugged, he didn’t know what to say to that. “Can you tell me, how he died?”

“I...” Sharû searched for a diplomatic way. “It was an... easy death, his heart simply stopped beating. He... what had been done to him left deep scars, visible and invisible. He often said his skin feels too tight.” Nothing of that was untrue and still he felt like he was lying. He couldn’t tell this sad woman that his father had died of grief for his mother. They sat silent for a moment.

“You... might do something for me”, Faranwion said, clearly trying to change the topic. “I heard that orcs do Maenais, too. This practice slid into obscurity shortly after we came here, there are some books in the library with old patterns, but no one knows the craft anymore, at least not in Alqualonde. I regret that now. I like the thought to record my travels on my skin. If I tell you, what I want, can you ink it for me? I’ll pay you, of course.”

Sharû was surprised, to say the least. “I can do that. Are you sure? Once it’s done, it can’t be undone.” Faranwion laughed. “I know. Yes, I’m sure. It’s part of my culture, although it went out of style.” He shared a wordless gaze with his mother who smiled at him. If Sharû had to guess, he’d have said she looked happy about it. “As you wish. Work out what motive you want and tell me when you are ready.”

Sharû stayed a while longer. Their conversation was cautious. About their work, life on the Island, Sharû talked a little about Ecthelion and his people. He could see that Arasiel wanted to hear more about his father and was afraid to at the same time. Sharû didn’t intend to start the topic, it hurt too much to think what a happy life his father could have had here.


	15. Chapter 15

Sharû woke from a knock and rolled around with a groan. “Yes?”, he croaked and sat up, his knees protested indignantly against every motion. He wrapped the sheet tighter around himself when Ecthelion came in. “What are you doing here?”, he asked, feeling panic rise in him.

“Matil tipped me off that it was your turn yesterday. I wanted to see how you are.” Sharû groaned and hid his face in his hands to not have to see the worry on Ecthelion's face. “Leave, please.” He had asked them to meet him in an inn _because_ he hadn’t wanted Ecthelion to see him like this. It was one of the new houses they had helped the Angband-Elves build.

“Sharû...”

Sharû shook his head. “Please. Wait downstairs, I’ll come, just... get out now.” Ecthelion didn’t say anything to that and Sharû sighed relieved when he heard him leave. He stifled a moan when he stood up, the thought of having to walk to the pier later made him feel faintly sick. But first he had to talk to Ecthelion and he didn’t look forward to that, either. He knew that his friends had only wanted to help, but that didn’t really make it better.

The shirt chafed on his sore back. He washed his face to wake up a little more – he really could have used a few hours more sleep – and limped down the stairs, glad that it had a sturdy handrail. His bruised knees would have buckled without something to brace himself on. Ecthelion walked up and down the empty seating area, Sharû’s stomach growled at the smell of frying eggs and bacon from the kitchen.

“I took the liberty to order you breakfast”, Ecthelion said when he saw him. He looked uncertain. “If I overstepped the mark by coming here, I’m sorry for it. Can you explain to me why it is so bad that I'm worried for you?” Sharû sighed and tried not to limp when he walked to a table and sat, although everything hurt.

“Orcs don’t show weakness, ever”, he said when Ecthelion had sat down across from him. “What does that... oh, it makes you feel uneasy if I see that you are hurt?” Sharû nodded silently. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he saw that there was no getting around it. He was glad that breakfast was served that moment and gave him a few minutes more.

Ecthelion waited silently while he ate, Sharû could see that the wheels were turning in his head. “What do you think will happen, if you let show that you are in pain? That you lose my friendship?”

“Your respect”, Sharû answered. “There is... was no friendship for us. Camaraderie, yes, but different from what it means for you. I was colonel, Mormirion appointed me, but that wouldn’t have done me any good if my men hadn’t respected me." Things had changed since then, but some old customs stuck, they were ingrained too deeply. "Strength is respect and part of it is to bear pain uncomplainingly. It is rude to comment on someone’s injuries especially if they are from a punishment, it can be even seen as a challenge. What you did, says in my world: ‘I think you weak.’”

“I’m sorry, Sharû! I... I didn’t know that.” Ecthelion looked pleadingly at him. “I didn’t mean it like that, please, don’t be angry.” Sharû sighed and almost felt bad for feeling the way he did. He didn't want Ecthelion to think they weren't friends, but... this was so difficult. “I’m not angry. But I don’t want you to coddle me. I can deal with this alone.” Was he being too harsh? He didn't want to push him away, but he didn't want him to ask anymore about his injuries, either.

Ecthelion had a lump in his throat. He’d only wanted to help but somehow he’d insulted Sharû with his worry. ‘You don’t have to deal with it alone’, he thought but didn’t say it, because he was sure that Sharû wouldn’t like it. “But... I’ve heard you complain about sore muscles!” Yes, he had known that orcs respected strength, but he’d only seen it from the viewpoint of an outsider, he hadn’t realised how much it permeated their culture.

“That’s different!” Sharû rubbed his neck. “That was just banter. No one would take that seriously. That’s not really pain.” Ecthelion shuddered. “Does that mean the worse you are injured the less you are ready to admit it? And _now_ I’m not supposed to worry? But you had healers, didn’t you? You did let them treat you?”

“Yes, of course!” Sharû sighed. “But healers were... outside of the hierarchy.” Sharû pushed the empty plate away and turned on his chair so he could stretch his legs. Ecthelion could see him wince and wondered what had happened, but he knew better than to ask now. “Healers didn’t have a military rank, they were healers, they couldn’t contest anyone’s status. To get treated by a healer wasn’t defamatory.”

It was so foreign, this attitude. It wasn't that he had never seen injuries downplayed to impress people, but to deny being in pain so completely... to see a question about one’s well-being as challenge... It went over his head. “Fine”, Ecthelion said. “I’ll accept that this is a part of your culture, I won’t ask again.” Although he’d have very much liked to know if Sharû was fine and what they’d done to him to make him limp like that. “But I want you to understand, too, that you could never lose my respect or friendship by admitting to be hurt. I hope, you’ll feel like you can confide in me if you ever need help.”

Sharû looked wordlessly at him for a long time and Ecthelion couldn’t read his expression. “I don’t know, Ecthelion”, he finally said in a soft voice. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you. I do. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusting anyone but my family. But you are _not_ part of my family. You are my friend and for you that means that we can confide in each other, but I’ve never had anything like that before outside of my family. It is hard for me.”

Ecthelion tamped down on the impulse to say: “I’d like to be part of your family.” It wasn’t the right time for it and he wasn’t even sure if Sharû would view a sexual partner as part of his family anyway. “I’m sorry”, he said. “I didn’t want to bring you into a trying situation. Are you angry with me?”

Sharû reached out and squeezed his hand. “No”, he said gently. “I’m just not in a good mood. I intend to travel back to the Island today, but maybe you’d like to visit me one of these days. We could hunt together and I promise I’ll be more cheerful then.” Ecthelion nodded, smiling in relief. He didn’t want to feel like they’d fallen out. “I will. And now I’ll leave you.” Although he was still reluctant about it when he didn’t know how hurt Sharû really was.

Ecthelion was sitting in the garden, reading a novel that he quickly slipped between the armrest of the wicker chair and his thigh, when he heard voices. He didn’t care if his mother saw what he read, but he didn’t want to have to discuss his choice of books with her friends. He relaxed a little when he realised that both the voices were male and he recognised Indo. So it was probably a visitor for him.

He shot up and ran to meet them when he recognised the elf. “Glorfindel!”, he called and embraced his friend. He had known that he was rehoused and had sent him a message to visit once he found time – he’d felt the need to see him the moment he’d heard the good news, but he hadn’t wanted to be intrusive, Glorfindel surely was busy at the beginning of his new life.

Glorfindel returned the embrace affectionately. “Ecthelion. How are you?” He looked at his scarred skin. “Your eye...” Ecthelion shrugged. “I’m almost blind on that side, but I’ve got used to it. It doesn’t hurt anymore. How are _you_?” They sat down and Indo served them white wine.

“I’m not completely... here, yet, if you can understand.” Glorfindel gave him an apologising look. “It’s so strange to be alone in this huge house...” He shook his head. “I’m just trying to find out what I have to do to get all the landholding back.” “If you want, I can help you. I have a little experience with getting the property of homecomers back, though not with something that large.”

Glorfindel smiled at him and although he looked tired, his smile was as radiant as he remembered it. “Yes, I heard you’ve been busy. And you’re still good for some wild rumours...” Ecthelion laughed. “For other reasons than before, I assure you.” “But always good for a scandal! That matter with the orcs...” Ecthelion sighed. “Do we really want to spend our first meeting after fire, pain and death arguing my choices?”

He could understand him, Glorfindel had fought them, had given his life to save the fugitives. Of course he wouldn’t feel friendly towards orcs. But Ecthelion was just back from the promised hunt with Sharû. They had camped in the forest and talked late into the night. Ecthelion had amused him with stories about his youth. They had shot a deer and because it was hot and the hunt had made them sweat, they had jumped into the forest lake afterwards – from the steep bank. Ecthelion smiled at the memory of Sharû’s incredulous face, when he’d suggested it. He didn’t feel like listening to the doubts of others right now.

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t mean to argue, your judgement is usually sound. And I know that look. _Please,_ tell me it is not the orc. Egalmoth says you see him a lot.” Ecthelion felt his face heat. Damn. He’d forgotten how well Glorfindel knew him. “You’ve met Egalmoth?” “He wasn’t as restrained as you with visiting. But don’t try to sidetrack. If it's him, I want to know.”

“Sharû is...” Ecthelion sighed. “Sharû is my friend. A very good friend, but nothing more.” Glorfindel stared at him. “But you’d like it to be more! Valar, Ecthelion!” He leaned his had back and groaned. “To think that I was called mad because I spent time with a servant.”

Ecthelion grimaced. “I’m sorry about that”, he said. “It was wrong to look down on Mablung, I know that now. I wish I could take it back.” Should he tell him what had happened to the boy? He shook his head. Not now. Glorfindel looked surprised. “You really are different.” “Angband will do that to you.” Ecthelion shrugged. Glorfindel squeezed his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t want to remind you.”

Ecthelion saw his throat move when he gulped and his voice was husky when he continued: “I thought you were dead – when we fled. Had I known that you are alive, I’d never have left you behind.” Glorfindel had tears in his eyes and Ecthelion embraced him. “It’s not your fault”, he said softly. “I was injured badly. I wouldn’t have had the strength to run. And... it was a dark time – being a slave – but if I hadn’t been there... my people needed someone like me after the war.”

“And still so modest!” Glorfindel laugh was a little shaky. “But I saw the many new houses and if only half of what I heard about you, is true than you did a lot of good.” Ecthelion smiled because Glorfindel’s words showed clearly that he was on the Angband-Elves’s side. “I’m doing the best I can.” “Will you tell me about it? What you did in the last years?” “Sure.” Ecthelion poured himself more wine and leaned back. He wasn’t afraid of Glorfindel’s judgement, he was as sure of his friendship as of barely anything else.

“I can’t believe that there are people who make life even more difficult for you”, Glorfindel said a while later. “It’s dishonourable.” Ecthelion shrugged. “Don’t think I’m not angry about it, but that’s how people are. They think us weak and somehow tainted by our experiences and many people who don’t despise us outright feel embarrassed by our past. They don’t like to think about what happened to us. But we are doing well, by now most of us are financially independent and those who don’t – maybe some never will – are supported by the others. That’s how it was, that’s how it is.”

“If you need money...”, Glorfindel started. Ecthelion shook his head. “You take care to settle in again, but thank you for offering. Arafinwe supports us with money as do some others and my mother ‘encourages’ her friends and acquaintances to buy from Angband-Elves who have shops. She’s been a great help to us.”

Glorfindel nodded. “What does _she_ say to you helping orcs?” “Oh, she got used to the idea.” “I can’t say, I already have... and much less that you make eyes at one of them, but I suppose I’ll have to. Does he _know_ that you fancy him?” Ecthelion shook his head. “I don’t know how he’d react. He was dependent on my goodwill for a long time, I didn’t want him to think...” Glorfindel opened his mouth and Ecthelion said irritable: “Yes, I _know_ I might have exploited such a situation in the past. Where does persuasion stop and rape start? I’ll never again have sex if the consent of my partner can be doubted in any way.”

“Both of us weren’t guiltless of that", Glorfindel said with a grimace. “Yes”, Ecthelion smiled wryly. “But you noticed much early that it isn’t good. Be that as it may, I didn’t want to risk Sharû getting my intentions the wrong way. And then there’s the fact that he was brought up so differently. They aren’t as different from us as we believed during the war, but they think differently in some points and I don’t know how they view sex between men if both are free.” “And you like him too much to risk it. It’s not like you to worry.”

Ecthelion shrugged embarrassed. “He means a lot to me. I don’t want to risk losing his friendship.” “You surely know better than me how high the risk is”, Glorfindel said gently, “but I’d advise you to tell him. Or at least feel him out. You are good at that!” Ecthelion laughed. “Yes, I was.” He was a little surprised at Glorfindel’s words. “Do you _want_ me and him to get together?” Glorfindel shrugged. “You like him a lot, I can see that. And I don’t know him. I won’t judge him prematurely. I won’t try to talk you out of it.”

Ecthelion embraced his friend tightly. “Thank you”, he whispered. How he was looking back on Glorfindel’s relationship with Mablung _now,_ didn’t change how he’d acted back then. Glorfindel would have had every reason to make this hard for him. Glorfindel rubbed his back. “It’s okay. I hope you’ll introduce him to me. As friend or as lover.” “I will.”

“Did you... did you hear anything about Mablung?”, Glorfindel asked, his thoughts clearly on the same track as Ecthelion's and Ecthelion felt a cold weight descend on his chest. “He wasn’t in the Halls and the webs didn’t show me anything about him, they told me it wasn’t my business.” Glorfindel’s tone of voice told Ecthelion clearly what he thought about that. “I only know that he must have survived the ice.” Ecthelion gulped.

“If they didn’t tell you in Mandos, maybe I shouldn’t say anything either...”, he said haltingly. Glorfindel gripped his shoulders. “So you know something!” His voice was excited – excited and fearful. “Ecthelion, please! You have to tell me! You know how important this is for me.” Ecthelion nodded slowly. “I don’t know, where he is now”, he started. Yes, he knew that Glorfindel had blamed himself his whole life for losing Mablung on the ice.

“He isn’t among my people, but I saw him in Angband.” Glorfindel’s fingers dug into his shoulders. “He was... he was Morgoth’s slave. I don’t know what happened to him after the Valar’s victory. He must have stayed in Middle-Earth.” Glorfindel closed his eyes. “Oh, Valar!” Ecthelion caressed his hair. “I’m sorry”, he said softly. “I wish, I’d have better news for you.”

“Did you talk to him?”, asked Glorfindel, his voice rough with feeling. “No.” Ecthelion licked his lips. “Morgoth kept him close. He didn’t have contact to us work slaves.” He watched Glorfindel pull himself together. “I just hope he’s fine, whatever he’s doing right now", he said, his voice trembling.

“I’m sure he is.” Ecthelion didn’t say anything of how broken some of his people were and the things that had been known about Morgoth’s tastes. He didn’t want to make Glorfindel feel worse than he was already. “So... let’s go riding one of these days?” Glorfindel smiled bravely and nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might sound familiar to some of you because it's taken from Mighty Love, but I rewrote it in part and added a large chunk in the middle, so it's definitely worth reading again :)

Ecthelion jumped on the quay and waved to the Teler who had taken him with him. He would stay the night on the Island. “Hello, Ecthelion! Are you visiting Sharû?” Ecthelion turned to the fisherman who had called at him. “Yes. Did you have a good catch, Iszar?” The orc nodded and pulled a fish from a bucket. “Can you bring this to Sharû? He knows what it is for.”

“Of course.” Ecthelion accepted the arm-long cod. “There’s going to be a storm tonight, Selindor tells me.” Iszar looked at the sky. “Might be. Do you want me to bring you back tomorrow?” Echtelion shook his head. “Sharû and I want to go hunting, but thanks.” Ecthelion gripped the slippery fish tighter and strolled through the village that spread around the harbour, waving at the orcs who went about their daily work. Sharû lived at the other end of the village, at the wood’s edge.

His friend sat on the bench in front of his house and waved lazily. “What do you have there?”, he called. “Codfish. Iszar said, you would know why.” Sharû laughed and relieved him of the fish. “Thank you. Shall we fry it later?” Ecthelion sat beside him on the bench and lifted his face to the sky. “That sounds good, if you cook.” Sharû bumped him with his elbow. “Still no ambitions?”

“My mother employs a cook.” Ecthelion winked at him. “I allow myself the luxury not to know how to do it myself.” “And you deserve it.” Sharû stood up. “Would you like something to drink? I have wine and fresh beer.” “Home-brewed?” “Of course.” Sharû grinned at him. “I’d like some” Ecthelion had come to appreciate the strong dark beer, the orcs brewed.

“Did you bring your flute?”, Sharû asked when he came back with two mugs. “Yes. Later.” Ecthelion took a deep draught. “Not outside.” He drew a crowd when he played, most times and he wasn’t in the mood for a spontaneous concert. “I heard a story about an orc who found his family. Is that true?”

“Yes.” Sharû’s face lit up. “It is like a miracle and it could have gone so terribly wrong. A few of my men were hunting and encountered some Solosimpi. We try to stay out of their way in the wood, some of them didn’t take it well that the Valar gave us the Island. But this time they’d chosen the same prey, the arrow that killed the stag was one of my men’s. I think, if Dard – Maroglin, I should say – hadn’t recognised his son, it could have gone badly. But he did and he moved to Alqualonde. Can you believe it, after so many thousands of years?” Sharû shook his head. “His wife took him back. Elves!”

“Love is eternal.” Ecthelion shot a glance at Sharû. “What about you? Do you have someone?” “What elf-woman would want someone such as me? And we are only men.” Ecthelion lifted his eyebrows. “I seem to remember that you weren’t averse to the male sex.” He didn’t know why he was saying that. They were on thin ice. Ecthelion gripped his mug tighter.

“That was different. You were slaves.” Sharû bit his lips. “I’m sorry, Thel.” “It’s fine”, Ecthelion said, although pain had shot through his heart at Sharû’s words. “So you perceive it as humiliating to be taken?” He had never spoken with Sharû about this. He shouldn’t be surprised that he thought so, but still... He had to fight to not let his voice show his feelings. “Yes. I know that it is different for elves, but... We were brought up differently. And you? Do you have someone?” Ecthelion was aware that his friend tried to steer their conversation into saver waters. If only he knew...

“No. I’m not lacking admirers – of both genders, but... no, there’s no one. That is...” Ecthelion looked at Sharû from the corner of his eyes. “There is someone I’m interested in, but I don’t know if he is interested, too.” Sharû laughed. “I wouldn’t have taken you for shy, Thel.” Ecthelion shrugged awkwardly. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad that Sharû hadn’t understood his hint.

“I wouldn’t have worried in the past. I was Ecthelion of the Fountain, the most beautiful elf in Gondolin and I knew it. I could have everyone, why should I restrain myself? I didn’t know this uncertainty, it didn’t occur to me that someone might refuse me.” Ecthelion shook his head. “I was a vain, proud noble, I would find myself insufferable today. Sharû, do you scorn me because I like being taken?” He bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t really want to know if it was so.

Sharû stared at him in horror. “I didn’t mean it like that, Thel! I think very highly of you, you are my friend. No, I don’t scorn you and I... wouldn’t think like that of anyone who would want me to take him, but... I can’t explain it. When I think about being taken, I feel helpless, I don’t think I would like it.”

Sharû’s formulation didn’t escape Ecthelion’s notice. Was he interpreting too much into his words? Enough! If he didn’t come out with it now, he’d never do it. And he’d gone too far already although Sharû hadn’t realised that he was talking about him. Ecthelion took Sharû’s hand in his and kissed his rough knuckles. “And that’s why I hesitate”, he murmured. Sharû stiffened, his hand shook. “Really?”, he croaked. “You... and me?” Ecthelion smiled insecurely. “If you want me? You can be honest with me if it isn’t so.” Sharû shook his head. “Who could not want you? But... Thel! I’m an orc.” “I’m aware of that.” Ecthelion smiled tenderly.

“But... look at me! You are so beautiful, how could you ever...” His eyes were wide and Ecthelion squeezed his hand tighter because he looked like he would jump up and run away at any moment. “I see you, Sharû.” Ecthelion caressed his cheek, traced his rugged features. “You told me that your father was an elf once. I can see it.” Sharû’s eyes filled with tears. “I... thank you. And still... How could I expect you to do something I can’t? That wouldn’t be decent.”

“Sharû...” Ecthelion shook his head. “That’s nonsense. I want it, it gives me pleasure. I don’t expect something in return!” Slowly he leaned forward and kissed the orc. Sharû returned the kiss tentatively, still tense. “I can’t believe that you mean it”, he whispered when they parted. “Because I’m an elf?” Ecthelion looked deep into his amber eyes. “Because you were a slave.! Sharû wanted to turn away but Ecthelion seized his chin and stopped him.

“Yes, I was – and I fought for my freedom with you at my side. You don’t owe me anything.” Ecthelion untied the strap that held Sharû’s hair together and combed it out with his fingers. “You think yourself ugly, don’t you? You aren’t. You _are_ an elf, Sharû, it’s just that your skin is darker and your eye-colour is special, but different isn’t ugly. Do you remember the day we spoke to the Valar and you embraced me because you were so happy because you could stay? I longed to never let you go. Please, do not deny us a chance because you believe you don’t deserve it.”

“I’m afraid, Thel.” Sharû gripped his hand tight. “I want to believe you. I desire you, but I fear that our friendship won’t survive it. You are so important to me, Thel, I don’t want to lose you.” Ecthelion cradled Sharû’s face between his hands. “You’ll always be able to count on me. Don’t be afraid.” Ecthelion kissed him again, his fingers slid through his open hair and played with the rings in his ears.

“Make love to me, Sharû”, he said and stroked him between the legs, the orc groaned. “Take me, I want to feel you inside me.” Ecthelion stood up and pulled him with him, his hands slid under Sharû’s shirt as he manoeuvred them both into the house. He managed to open his trousers between kisses and went to his knees. Before Sharû could protest, he licked the tip of his growing arousal and took him in his mouth.

Ecthelion closed his eyes, he had ached to do this for so long and had always told himself that it wasn’t possible, but he wouldn’t allow doubts anymore – not his and not Sharû’s. “Thel!”, the orc moaned. “Thel, wait.” He stumbled back and stared at him, breathing hard. “Not... not like this. I don’t want you to kneel before me.” Ecthelion smiled relieved and stood up. “If that is all...” He rubbed himself against him and purred into his ear. “Let’s check out if your bed is as sturdy as it looks.”

He was dreaming. It couldn’t be otherwise. He was dreaming and he’d wake any moment and have to content himself with his right hand. But he didn’t wake, they stripped quickly and lay down on the bed that creaked softly. Ecthelion kissed him passionately and Sharû returned it hesitantly. His hand trembled when he laid it on Ecthelion’s cheek. Ecthelion pulled back a little and looked seriously at him. “If you don’t want to... This is not a favour I ask of you. I want you, but only if you want me, too.”

Sharû laughed helplessly. “That’s not it, Thel, really.” He didn’t remember when he’d started calling him that, to him a short name simply felt more natural. Ecthelion had never complained although elves usually reacted a little sensitive to a shortening of their names. “But I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had sex with an elf who wanted that. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Ecthelion’s face became gentle. “You won’t. Just touch me. Any way you like.” Ecthelion pushed him on his back and kissed his neck, his hand closed around Sharû’s cock and he groaned. He hadn’t had sex since... much too long. He wouldn’t last long. “And let me give you pleasure.”

Ecthelion’s mouth left a wet trail on his skin as he kissed down his chest. Sharû shyly stroked his back and sides, is fingertips traced the rim of the burn scars, but when Ecthelion’s lips closed around his arousal again, he clenched his fists in the sheets. He didn’t want to pull his hair. Hot pleasure washed over him. Ecthelion was licking the length of his cock and peppered little kisses down the side. He sucked on the head and Sharû groaned. Hot shudders ran through him as Ecthelion went deeper.

“Thel... Thel, I...” He was breathing quickly, his muscles trembled as he tried not to come yet, Ecthelion let him slip from his mouth. “In case that’s not clear, you can come into my mouth.” Sharû couldn’t reply anything before Ecthelion continued to suck him and words fled his mind. He came, his muscles jerking and pure bliss clouding his thoughts. Only afterwards did he wonder if it really had been right, despite Ecthelion’s words, but when he looked into the elf’s smiling eyes, he knew he didn’t need to worry.

Sharû took a trembling breath and leaned forward to kiss him, moving his thigh against Ecthelion’s hard cock. Ecthelion groaned, moving into him and opening his mouth when Sharû shyly touched his lips with his tongue. Sharû reached down, sliding his fingertips over his arousal and gently massaging his balls. Ecthelion moaned into his mouth, his tongue moving against his, Sharû tasted himself on it and shuddered pleasantly.

He started to stroke his cock slowly, enjoying the feel of the hot skin under his fingers, tracing a vein with his fingertip. Ecthelion’s eyes closed, he thrust lightly into his touch, his teeth tugging on Sharû’s lower lip. Sharû took a deep breath, smelling both their sweat, his release and Ecthelion’s arousal, the mixture going right to his groin. Ecthelion clung to him, moaning and gasping, his cheeks flushed and Sharû stroked him quicker.

“Oh, Thel”, he whispered, filled with tenderness for this elf who was able to desire him. “So beautiful.” Ecthelion’s muscles tensed, his fingers dug into Sharû’s shoulders when he came trembling over his hand. Sharû kissed him slow and gentle while he held him close, Ecthelion’s quick breath caressing his skin. He’d never felt like before, not really.

Ecthelion smiled at him, his hand stroking his chest. “I can’t believe we just did this”, Sharû whispered. “I can’t believe you should want me.” He kissed the number inked under the skin of Ecthelion’s forearm. “I want you”, Ecthelion said without hesitation and met his eyes. “As a matter of fact and as I might have mentioned before”, a mischievous smile came to the elf’s lips, “I want you inside me. I understand this is new and strange for you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I... I don’t know. It’s...” Sharû laughed sheepishly. “It’s all a little much. I’m sorry, I’m acting like an idiot.” Sharû was angry at himself. Why couldn’t he just accept Ecthelion’s desire? He knew him, he trusted him to know what he wanted. But it _was_ strange.

Ecthelion shook his head with a smile. “No, just like someone who isn’t used to this kind of relationship.” His hand caressed his skin in slow smooth strokes, sometimes halting at a scar and tracing it, before continuing, Sharû returned the tenderness shyly. So strange. His only experience that came anywhere close to this were the hours with Mablung.

Mablung, who’d told him, too, that he could see the elf he might have been. Mablung, who had been so good at giving him what he wanted. Never fighting him, always grateful for any gentleness he might give in return. But in the end, he’d been a slave and he couldn’t compare it with lying here with Ecthelion. Mablung had paid the price for Sharû’s protection, given a choice he wouldn’t have ended up in his bed. He hadn’t wanted _him_. But Ecthelion wanted him. Ecthelion wanted to be touched by him, kissed by him, ...fucked by him. Was he mad to risk breaking this miracle by not accepting it as possible?

Sharû laid his hand on Ecthelion’s cheek and traced his cheekbone with his thumb. “No, we don’t need to talk. It’s enough for me to know that you want it – me”, he said firmly and kissed him. Ecthelion made a pleased sound and pulled him on top of him. For a long while they only kissed, caressing each other. Ecthelion had scars, too, Sharû felt them under his fingers. Scars from being a slave, but also those of a fighter – Sharû knew how good he was with a blade, he was glad they’d never met in battle.

He rubbed his growing arousal against Ecthelion’s thigh and felt him shudder and moan. Sharû liked the sounds he made, both the soft contented little sighs when he kissed him slowly and the throaty moans when he was close to completion – he wanted to hear more of them. He nibbled gently on the skin of his neck and knew he’d found a good spot when Ecthelion made a delightful mewl and thrust his hips against him. Sharû smiled at himself and continued to suck and bite his neck, tenderly, he didn’t want to leave marks.

He intended to be gentle, he could do that, he wouldn’t scare him off by fucking him through the mattress. Sharû groaned when he realised there was nothing in reach to use as lubrication – he’d have to get up. Ecthelion whined in protest when he sat up. “Where do you think you are going?” “Getting oil.” Sharû enjoyed the sight for a moment. Ecthelion’s lips were red and swollen from kissing, his skin flushed and damp with sweat. The area where Sharû’s teeth had been a little darker than the skin around it.

Sharû suppressed a growl as arousal shot through his body and made his cock pulse. Maybe he _did_ want to mark him... No, not today – and maybe never. Elves liked gentle sex. Sharû quickly fetched a bottle with olive oil from the larder and came back to the bed. “Hurry up”, Ecthelion said with a wink and spread his legs. Sharû knelt between them, caressing his thighs and leaning over him to kiss his neck again.

“You smell so good”, he whispered and Ecthelion laughed, but if he’d wanted to answer anything to that it turned into a moan when Sharû’s oil-slickened fingers slid inside him. Sharû closed his eyes as he imagined that tight, hot muscles clenching around his cock, but he took his time to prepare him. He kissed Ecthelion’s chest, licked the sweat from his skin, the taste salty and arousing.

“Sharû”, Ecthelion groaned, bucking his hips. “Hurry up! Please.” And Sharû, whose restraint hung on a thread decided that it was enough preparation. He trembled when he entered him slowly. Pleasure rushing hot and tingling through him, Ecthelion met his thrusts and slung his arms around his neck, moaning with abandon. Sharû finally let the satisfied growl escape his throat. Ecthelion wanted him. Ecthelion wanted him. Ecthelion wanted him!

Afterwards, Ecthelion sat on the bed and played his flute. Sharû lay beside him and watched him with half-closed eyes, looking contented. He liked to play for him, precisely because Sharû hadn’t been brought up to like music. He had no idea of musical theory, unlike most of his other listeners. It was liberating somehow, to play for him.

“Why?”, Sharû asked softly. Ecthelion set his flute down. “Why what?” “Why me? Why... this?” Sharû made a motion with his hand that encompassed them both and what they had done just now.

Ecthelion shifted his weight a little and looked him in the eyes. “Because you deserve to be loved. Because I can sit here and play music for you. Because with you I can do something as mad jumping off a cliff into a lake.” Ecthelion laughed softly at the memory. “Because you don’t want me for my name or my money. Because you can look at my face without recoiling from my scars. Because you didn’t say anything when you saw me naked for the first time.”

Sharû caressed his side wordlessly, the burns covered his back and left arm with uneven, dark splotches. Ecthelion caught his hand and kissed his fingers. “Because I don’t have to feign anything when I’m with you.” He grinned at him. “Because I hope you’ll soon fry that fish for me, I’m hungry.”

Sharû laughed and embraced him. Ecthelion kissed him gently, putting his flute aside to caress Sharû's thigh. He blushed when his belly rumbled in protest and Sharû laughed. “I’ll prepare the Lord of the Fountain’s meal now, I think”, he said. He stood up and bowed to Ecthelion. “Any special wishes, herdir?” Ecthelion reclined laughing against the headboard of the bed. “No, go ahead. I have a very good view from here.” Sharû lifted his eyebrows but stoked up the fire without another comment.

Soon it smelled deliciously of fried fish, Ecthelion’s stomach growled demandingly, he had last eaten this morning and the... exertion, he grinned, took its toll. Ecthelion slid from the bed and placed a kiss on Sharû’s shoulder. “Will you wait till after dinner?” Sharû laughed and wiggled when Ecthelion bit him gently. “I’m so hungry, I could bite a chunk out of you.” “The fish will taste better.” “I’m not so sure of that.” Ecthelion leaned against him. “I just want to be close to you.” He felt the urge to grin the whole time, he was so happy.

“If you’d let go of me for a moment, we could eat.” Ecthelion felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Yes, he acted like a lovestruck adolescent, but he couldn’t stop it. Had he ever been that much in love? He couldn’t remember. “What would your high-born friends say if they could see you right now?”, Sharû said as they sat down. He tried to make light of it, but Ecthelion saw he worry in his narrowed lips.

“Are you worried?” Ecthelion shrugged and made an approving sound when he tried the first piece of fish. “They can’t do anything to us.” “Not you maybe.” Sharû bit his lower lip. “We only live here because the Valar allow it. I don’t want to alienate important Noldor.” “Does it look like Garam has any problems?” “That’s different.” Sharû shrugged. “Who’d want to mess with Silwen?”

“And you think that anyone would want to mess with me?” Ecthelion gave him a dangerous smile although he thought of Glorfindel’s incomprehension. He didn’t mind to scandalise, but losing the regard of his best friend frightened him. “You forget who I am. No one wants to have Ecthelion of the Fountain against him. Besides, there’s a lot changing right now. All the Maiar who served Melkor are coming free and you have to have noticed that you attract less attention than before when you visit me.

Remember how they stared at you in the beginning? They are getting used to see orcs in Aman and given time even the last of them will learn to trust you, the Angband-Elves do anyway. Of course there will be gossip, but they learned to accept that we are friends, they’ll accept that we are lovers, too.” Or at least he hoped so.

Sharû sighed but then he smiled. “If my mother could see us, she would laugh, I think. She would have liked you, Thel.” “Do you know that _my_ mother long thinks us to be secretly lovers?” Sharû stared at him. “What?” Ecthelion shrugged. “I don’t know how she got the idea but she’s making ambiguous commentaries. Maybe I showed my feelings for you more openly than I thought. She takes it with humour.”

Sharû rubbed his face. “What did I get myself into? A bunch of mad elves.” His eyes glittered. “And you are the maddest of all. We should go to bed if we want to get up early for hunting.” Ecthelion winked at him. “I have no objections to going to bed.” Sharû groaned. “I meant for sleeping.”

“You can sleep when I’m gone.” Ecthelion took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “And if we find ourselves a comfortable fern glade instead of hunting tomorrow, no one will find out.” Sharû shook his head. “Only an elf could get the idea to fuck in the woods. As I said, mad, all of you.” Ecthelion silenced him with a kiss.


	17. Chapter 17

Sharû walked off the boat and looked around. Ecthelion had promised him to meet him at the pier. The elf waved at him with a smile and Sharû waved back, a little stiffly. It was the first time they met after they’d had sex. Ecthelion’s lover... that’s what he was now. And Ecthelion didn’t seem to mind to show that fact to the world. Sharû tensed in surprise when he kissed him.

“Good to see you”, Ecthelion said. “I booked a table for lunch.”

“You spoil me.”

Ecthelion chuckled. “It’s our first real date. That needs to be celebrated properly.”

Sharû looked away embarrassed and was glad that his dark skin didn’t show his blush. “We often eat together.”

“But not as a couple.” Ecthelion became serious. “If I overwhelm you, you have to tell me. I, for my part, am very happy that you want to be with me and I intend to show you.”

Sharû nodded. He _was_ a little overwhelmed by Ecthelion engulfing him in his love, but... he remembered how his parents had treated each other. At least at home they hadn’t hidden how much they loved each other. It had just been so long ago. Love hadn’t been possible for orcs. Orcs, who loved, hadn’t been desirable. He squeezed Ecthelion’s hand. “Openly displayed affection makes me nervous. Not because I think we shouldn’t be together. I just fear someone could take you away from me if our love is too obvious.”

“No one will separate us”, Ecthelion stated, “but I know what you mean – why you say that. Tell me, if I push too much, I won’t sulk.” Sharû nodded. He had always been able to be honest with Ecthelion, that shouldn’t change now. The inn, Ecthelion had chosen, hid on a little square at one of the walls that separated the hill into terraces. They’d been here before and Sharû felt his mouth water as he thought of the wonderful lamb they made here.

Their table stood right beside the sunwarm stones of the wall, it smelled of rosemary and thyme and the blooms of the orange tree that gave shade. Sharû smiled to himself when he realised that he could name the herbs – Ecthelion’s influence. Ecthelion ordered wine, Sharû trusted him to make a good choice. The waitress greeted Ecthelion by name and didn’t seem surprised to see Sharû, at least she didn’t let it show.

Sharû ordered the lamb, Ecthelion chose fried trout and started to tell him about the last meeting of the Angband-Elves. When he talked about music, Sharû always felt like he could almost hear it. Elves... they could make everything sound like music. Not that he knew much about music. “You should come along again one of these days.”

Sharû shook his head. “You dragged me along once – and it was wonderful, I won’t deny it – but I know not all of your people are comfortable with an orc close by and I don’t want to discomfit them. And there’s also... us. What are they going to say to their leader having sex with an orc?”

Ecthelion shrugged. “It’s my private life, it’s none of their business – and they know you. Many of them call some of your men friends. I think they’ll be less baffled than the rest of Tirion.” Ecthelion smiled and his eyes twinkled. “Anyway, I don’t care. I won’t give you up.“ His eyes were so deep... Sharû thought he could drown in them, he was so happy. A wide smile stole itself on his lips. “What?” Ecthelion tapped him with his toes.

“Nothing. I’m just happy.”

“Me, too.” Ecthelion gave him a quick kiss, ignoring the elves at the other tables. “My mother told me, if we could make it, she’d like to have tea with her ‘future son-in-law’, as she put it.” Sharû gulped. “And you are sure that you want that?”

“Why not?” Ecthelion cocked his head. “You’ve met her before an you seemed to get along well.” “I meant the ‘future son-in-law’. That’s a little fast for me.” Ecthelion’s eyes became serious. “It was a joke. I don’t intend to force a ring on your finger tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy what we have together. Marriage was never my foremost goal in life.” Sharû laughed. “Oh, really?” He’d heard a lot about Ecthelion. His friend had had a wild youth.

“What am I to say?” Ecthelion shrugged. “I just like to have sex.” “I noticed.” Sharû grinned. They had been hunting the day after their first night together, they even had caught a deer, but afterwards they had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Ecthelion’s skin had tasted of forest – moss and blueberries and woodruff. Sharû licked his lips. Ecthelion took a sip from his wine and winked at him as if he knew what he was thinking.

“Let’s go home.” It wasn’t far. They chose a shortcut up narrow steps, it was making him sweat but Sharû enjoyed the view of Ecthelion’s backside before him anyway. The elf threw a look over his shoulder that told him that he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I don’t want to be disturbed”, Ecthelion told Indo. “If the city isn’t burning, I’m not available for anyone today.” The other elf looked at Sharû in disbelief, but refrained from voicing his thoughts and only nodded. Ecthelion closed the bedroom door behind them and pushed Sharû against it. “I longed for this”, he growled.

Sharû pulled him against himself wordlessly and gave him a passionate kiss, his hands closed around Ecthelion’s buttocks. The elf’s fingers found their way under his shirt, caressing his sides and pulling it over his head. Sharû moaned softly when Ecthelion’s knee slid between his legs, he was growing hard quickly.

“You drive me insane”, Ecthelion whispered into his ear and licked the rim. “I want you inside me.” His voice broke a little when Sharû pushed his hand into his trousers and cupped his cock. Ecthelion’s nails dug into his shoulders, Sharû shuddered and growled softly. His arousal pulsed with his heartbeat. He wanted. And pulled himself together. He mustn’t hurt him. He mustn’t throw away what he had here.

Ecthelion’s eyes met his, the pupil of his good eye wide. Sharû kissed him again, hard. He tasted blood and didn’t know if it was his or Ecthelion’s, but Ecthelion didn’t seem to mind. The elf made short work of their remaining clothes, Sharû groaned and thrust against him when their hot, hard cocks slid along each other. ‘I want you inside me.’ And he wanted to be inside him, to thrust into him until he screamed with pleasure.

Sharû lifted Ecthelion up – the elf slung his legs around him with a giggle – and carried him to the bed, let him fall on the mattress. Ecthelion spread his legs invitingly with a wide grin, stroking his cock slowly. Sharû growled and knelt between his legs before looking around and found what he searched for on the night table. Lubrication. His hands trembled a little when he opened the tin and took a generous amount of cream on his fingers. He was nervous, this was so new.

“Yes”, Ecthelion sighed and moved toward him when he slid his slippery fingers into his passage. Sharû bowed over him to lick at a nipple. “More!”, Ecthelion groaned. “Sharû!” He moved his hips into Sharû’s touch. “I want you.” “And you shall have me.” Sharû bit the nipple gently and grinned at the sound the elf made. He loved to see him like this, aroused and eager for him.

He put Ecthelion’s legs on his shoulders and entered him slowly, though he ached to move more quickly. He didn’t want to hurt him. Ecthelion’s hands tangled in his hair and pulled him up for another kiss, meeting his thrusts. Sharû closed his eyes, enjoyed the feeling of being completely inside him and the hands in his hair, Ecthelion moaning unabashedly. Sharû felt when he found the right angle and Ecthelion’s body tensed in pleasure.

“More!”, Ecthelion gasped. “Valar, Sharû! Harder!” Sharû had always thought that elves liked tender sex, but Ecthelion... He couldn’t think now, not with his cock buried to the hilt in his elf. “As you wish”, he growled and fucked him harder. “Yes!” Ecthelion’s fingers tugged on his hair, his eyes were closed in obvious bliss, his head thrown back. Sharû licked down his exposed throat. He felt his release rushing over him like a wave, a growl vibrated in his chest and he bit Ecthelion’s shoulder. He felt the elf tense and wetness splatter on his belly when he came too.

Ecthelion snuggled against Sharû’s broad chest, his legs tangled with the orc’s. He blinked languidly and admired the contrast between his light-skinned hand on Sharû’s dark chest. “You are so beautiful”, he murmured and caressed the sweaty skin. Sharû’s laugh rumbled under his ear.

“ _You_ are beautiful.” The orc traced the throbbing spot where he had bitten him. “I’m not a mare, you know?”, Ecthelion said with a smile. Sharû made a questioning sound and Ecthelion chuckled. “Have you never seen horses mate?” Sharû shook his head. “Horses don’t like me – or orcs in general. I think they know me as the predator I am.”

Ecthelion chuckled. “Well, the stallion bites the mare’s neck so she can’t get away.” Sharû’s dark skin didn’t show a blush but Ecthelion was sure that he _was_ blushing. “That wasn’t...” He coughed embarrassed. “It can happen in the heat of the moment, if you go to bed with an orc.” Ecthelion kissed him gently.

“I know. I like it a little rough”, he said, now a little embarrassed himself. Before Angband he had usually been on top, except when he had sought someone out who was physically superior to him. Sharû was smaller, but much more muscular than him. He shivered pleasantly at the thought of Sharû gripping his wrists and pushing him into the mattress. He didn’t know why Angband hadn’t healed him of this fantasies. He’d had more than enough forced rough sex he hadn’t enjoyed at all.

“I don’t want to hurt you”, Sharû said and rubbed his nape. Ecthelion would have purred if he knew how. “It doesn’t hurt”, he answered. “We both know what real pain feels like, I think.” Sharû turned his eyes to the ceiling. “But that’s it. I... I don’t want to wake up bad memories and... I _am_ an orc, I fear to lose control in the heat of the moment.”

Ecthelion pressed a kiss to his chest. “My memories... let’s say it like this: I don’t have nightmares - not about this at least - and nothing you could do would trigger something bad.” That he didn’t trust himself when he was such a good person... “Are you so sure about that?” Sharû’s hand gripped his hair painfully and Ecthelion’s heart started to beat quicker – but not with fear. “I won’t be afraid of you, Sharû. I know you won’t do anything against my will.”

Sharû shook his head and let go of his hair. “Why do you trust me so much? I was one of your masters.” He made a desperate sound between laugh and sob. “I could have had you and would not remember.” Ecthelion rose to his elbow and looked firmly into Sharû’s eyes. “ _I_ would remember. But you didn’t. We are together _now_. You are not my master and I’m not a slave. I do this because I want to and I hope it is the same with you.” “Of course!” Sharû’s eyes grew wide as if he couldn’t believe that Ecthelion said that.

“Good.” Ecthelion crossed his arms on Sharû’s chest and rested his chin on them. “If you feel uncomfortable, we don’t have to discuss it. I just want you to know that you don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass. Okay?” Sharû nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Ecthelion shook his head at himself. It was normal for him to talk with his lovers about sex, but Sharû was different, he should have known that. Ecthelion kissed Sharû’s chin that he could reach easily from his position. He felt a light stubble under his lips. “Are you shaving?” Sharû snorted in amusement. “Daily. Or do you want me to grow a beard?”

Ecthelion eyed Sharû in feigned seriousness. He tried to imagine Sharû with a beard. “Better not”, he said and rubbed his cheek against the orc’s. “It scratches on my tender elven skin.” Sharû laughed softly and slid his fingertip down the inside of Ecthelion’s upper arm. Ecthelion twitched, he was ticklish there. “How old are you, anyway?”, he asked. Facial hair was a little unpredictable but usually only older elves could grow a beard. Was it the same with orcs? Sharû scratched his neck.

“I can’t tell exactly. We had a time reckoning, but it doesn’t fit to anything you have. I was born when Melkor was a captive of the Valar.” Ecthelion nibbled on Sharû’s chin. “You know that it is quite a long time you are speaking of?” Sharû shrugged. “I’d say it was roughly in the middle of it. I was long grown when he came back.”

“You’re probably quite a bit older than me.” Ecthelion shrugged. “Not that it matters to me.” Sharû raked his hand through Ecthelion’s hair. “To be honest, I never thought about it. Age becomes inconsequential after a while, don’t you think?” Ecthelion nodded and closed his eyes with relish as Sharû continued to massage his nape.

A long while later, Ecthelion said: “I hate to bring it up right now, but mother will be mad at me, if we don’t make it down for tea.” Sharû groaned and moved lazily against him. “Can we wash first? I don’t want to have tea with your mother when I feel like I smell of you and sex.” Ecthelion stifled his giggle on Sharû’s neck. “Absolutely. We can shower.”

He sat up and held his hand out to Sharû. Sharû let him pull him to his feet. He hesitated for a moment when Ecthelion opened the door to the hallway and walked out in nothing but his skin. “It’s not far”, Ecthelion said with a grin over his shoulder. “And the staff knows better than to disturb me when I have a guest. I have a certain reputation.”

Sharû’s laughter was deep and rumbling. He loved it, he had to make him laugh more often. “That’s persistent, isn’t it? Or did you work actively on it after your return?” Ecthelion shrugged awkwardly. “I’ve had some people here, but not as much as before.” He had soon realised that people didn’t want to be reminded that he had been a slave, but it was a part of who he was now. Maybe, no, surely, he would have thought otherwise if he hadn’t been in Angband.

Egalmoth and he had been of one mind in the past, but when he talked with him now he wondered how he could have ever been so shallow. Egalmoth had stopped to disparage the Angband-Elves when he could hear it, but Ecthelion knew that his attitude hadn’t changed, he was just keeping quiet for their friendship’s sake. Ecthelion shook his head. He didn’t want to think of Egalmoth now or of any of the problems his people had.

Sharû was here and he would enjoy it. And later they would meet his mother for tea. He smiled, glad that his mother seemed to be so unfazed about his love for an orc. Ecthelion embraced his lover and gave him a quick kiss, simply because he could. As his mother was not only open minded to his choice of lovers but also to new inventions, they had running hot water in their baths and Ecthelion was excited by this invention.

The Noldor who had stayed behind maybe didn’t know about chainmail or swords that started to glow when enemies were close, but they had invented this fantastic thing: water that came out of a shower head like warm rain... Ecthelion stood often much too long under the shower, but he had earned it after the years in the dirt, he thought. He dragged Sharû into the bath. There was a tub, too, but that was not what he wanted right now.

“Have you ever stood under artificial rain?” Sharû shook his head and eyed the shower head distrustfully. “Don’t look up or you’ll get water in the eyes.” Ecthelion opened the tap and warm water poured down on them. Sharû gasped in surprise. “That’s... unbelievable.” “Isn’t it? I love it.” Ecthelion closed his eyes and leaned his head back until his hair stuck wet to his back. He sighed happily when Sharû’s hands started to stroke his thighs.

Everything was wet and hot, his hands, Ecthelion’s skin, even their kisses. Sharû, who usually contented himself with a jump into the forest pond, wouldn’t have thought that anyone could get the idea to have hot water come from the wall. Elves and their fixation with cleanness... He shook his head, but he had to admit it felt good. Ecthelion moaned into their kiss when he ground their loins together. How much he desired this elf. He could have fucked him all day and would still want him.

For years he had tried to hide this feelings, fearing to chase Ecthelion away. But Ecthelion wanted him. Valar! Ecthelion wanted him! It was still so unbelievable. Sharû licked the bite on Ecthelion’s shoulder and closed his hand around both their arousals. Ecthelion moaned and clung to him. Sharû slid his thumb over the head of Ecthelion’s cock, slick with water and precum.

Sharû wondered how he would taste, how it would be to take him in his mouth. He had never allowed himself to think of this before either. He was an orc, he wasn’t a weakling who let himself be fucked. That was what he had been taught. But with Ecthelion... Ecthelion didn’t think it humiliating to be fucked. And Ecthelion was a lot but he wasn’t a weakling. Still, Sharû couldn’t bring himself to kneel before him. Maybe another time, when they were lying in bed.

Sharû continued to stroke them and watch Ecthelion. His lover leaned against the tiles, the water swirled around them both and made his skin shine. He opened his good eye. “Sharû”, he groaned and Sharû stretched to kiss him. His hand moved quicker, he felt his release come nearer and then Ecthelion’s tensing when he came over his hand. Sharû followed him shortly after and leaned against Ecthelion who embraced him.

“Melethron”, Ecthelion murmured into his ear. “Sharû, my dear, you mean so much to me.” Sharû’s heart beat quicker and not only of the physical effort. They stayed under the shower until the water became cooler and it had washed away the evidence of their shared pleasure.

Nivwen’s smirk told Ecthelion that she knew exactly what they had been doing. Well, she knew him, it probably wasn’t that hard to figure out what he was doing with his new lover behind closed doors. Every time he thought of Sharû as his lover, a small rush of elation shot through his heart. It was still so new and he’d waited for so long, sure that it would be better to stay quiet.

“Welcome, Sharû”, she said, pouring them tea herself. “As I’ve told Ecthelion, I’m glad you finally found the courage to tell me of your affair.” Ecthelion blushed. “Mother! I told you it’s new. You’ve been seeing things.” “If you say so.” Nivwen eyed him over the rim of her cup.

“It’s true”, Sharû said, holding the fragile cup like he expected it to break in his hand. Ecthelion smiled to himself. He wasn’t scared for the fine porcelain, he knew how gentle these hands could be. “I did not think he’d ever want me.” Nivwen smiled at him. “As you might gather from my words, I’m not surprised. And to be honest, you are not the strangest person, Ecthelion ever had a dalliance with.”

“Mother!”, Ecthelion cried appalled. “Sharû does not need to hear about my former lovers!” “Oh, but maybe I’d like to hear”, Sharû smirked at him and Nivwen laughed. “I like you Sharû. Did you have a pleasant journey from the isle?”, she asked. Sharû nodded. “The sea is calm this time of the year. But I’ll never become a friend of boats.” She smiled. “Do you get seasick?”

Sharû shook his head. “No, but... all that water. I’m not a very good swimmer, I just like to have earth under my feet. I grew up inside a mountain, water is for drinking.” “So you don’t feel it? The yearning for the sea? To stand on its shore and feel the salty wind on your face.” Sharû shook his head again. “Maybe I’m not elf enough for that. The sea always felt menacing to me. Now I live on an island and I get along with it. I like fish. But I’ll never be a sailor. I’m glad that the Solosimpi who want a maenas are happy to come to me. I wouldn’t want to make the journey to the mainland every day.”

“Maenas? Oh, I’ve seen them on older elves, it went quickly out of fashion, when we came here. Orcs do that, too?”, Nivwen asked interestedly and Sharû nodded. “Though our marks are different from those of the elves. The Solosimpi are rediscovering that tradition from their relatives who stayed longer in the east but many of the inkers of the families are hesitant to do that for people outside the family. I’m in easy reach.” Sharû shrugged. “The more adventurous ones come to me.”

“So you are an artist”, Nivwen said with a smile and Sharû blushed. “I’m not sure that’s the right word. I’m more of a farmer, really. Your son is too good for me.” Nivwen cocked her head. “I think my son has a different opinion and because I know my son I won’t contradict him.” Ecthelion blushed when she stroked his head.

“Yes, I already noticed that Ecthelion can be a little... tenacious.” Sharû smiled with closed lips. Ecthelion was seeing him doing that around elves because an orc smiling could look right out terrifying. “He is sometimes a little hard to persuade.” “And this from you?” Ecthelion turned to his mother and smiled. “Sharû has an orcish bullhead, himself. Not only the Noldor are known for their stubbornness.”

Sharû grumbled something unintelligible and sipped on his cup putting it down delicately afterwards. Ecthelion steered the conversation to other topics, knowing that Sharû didn’t like to be too much the centre of it. To be honest, he wanted to go back upstairs. Sharû tensed when Ecthelion stroked his calf with his foot and threw him a disbelieving glance, Ecthelion smiled innocently at him.


	18. Chapter 18

Glorfindel was a surprise to Sharû. He'd been nervous since Ecthelion had persuaded him to meet his best friend, but he hadn’t needed to be. Glorfindel treated him with a warmth that made him relax immediately. He asked him about life on the Island, their relationship with the Solosimpi and teased Ecthelion about keeping silent so long – Sharû gathered from his words that he’d been interested in him quite a while longer than he’d been knowing.

It didn’t seem to disturb him at all that his best friend had taken an orc as his lover. Sharû even found that he could answer the question how Ecthelion and he had met without feeling too bad about it. Glorfindel made him feel like he could say nothing that would make him look bad.

“You would have fought weaponless against armed soldiers?”, Glorfindel asked Ecthelion, an awed look on his face and Sharû agreed with him. Ecthelion had been awesome standing in front of them, ready to sell his life dearly with only a stick in his hand.

Ecthelion shrugged as if it were no big deal. “It is one thing to cower in order to survive, but I didn’t intend to let myself be slaughtered like cattle and a few others thought the same. We were lucky that Mormirion and Sharû had something else in mind.” To Sharû’s surprise Ecthelion seemed embarrassed. Was it the topic? Sharû squeezed his hand and Ecthelion gave him a smile before he seemed to come to a decision and said to Glorfindel: “Why are you so damned nice?”

Glorfindel laughed. “Feeling guilty, Ecthelion?”

“Yes, damn you!” Ecthelion hid his face in his hand. “I was such an idiot.”

“I admit, I thought about bringing the booze and suggesting a drinking game”, Glorfindel said with a wide grin. Sharû frowned in puzzlement, they’d lost him there. “But I thought, Sharû is probably much more able to hold his drink than Mablung was and...”

Whatever else Glorfindel was saying was drowned out by the rush in his ears. He knew that elf names didn’t usually repeat – sometimes, but not often – how probable was it that it was the case here? Sharû felt cold sweat run down his back. He couldn’t say, but he _knew_ Glorfindel would stop being so nice as soon as he found out what he’d done to his... friend? lover?

“Sharû?”, Ecthelion looked worried at him. “Are you okay? You look pale. Don’t worry, you don’t have to get drunk.”

Sharû laughed shakily. “No, I... I’m fine. It’s nothing.” He tried to calm down.

“Did I say something wrong?”, Glorfindel asked and the worry in his voice made Sharû feel sick with remorse. He shouldn’t keep it from him, if he’d been Mablung’s friend. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He shook his head but he could see Ecthelion going through what had been said and the moment when he realised why he was so upset.

“Valar! You know the name”, he groaned.

“I knew _him_ ”, Sharû croaked because he didn’t want to lie outright, dread curled in his belly. What would Glorfindel do now?

Instead of lunging for him or challenging him to a duel, an excited look came to Glorfindel’s face. “Do you know what happened to him after the war? He seems to have vanished.”

Sharû shook his head. “I knew him when he was brought to Angband, but then he...” He fell silent because he really didn’t want to be the one to break the bad news to him.

“Glorfindel knows that Mablung was Morgoth’s slave at the end”, Ecthelion said gently. “I recognised him.”

Sharû breathed a little more easily. Sure, he was still one of the people who’d raped the boy, but at least Glorfindel already knew the worst thing. “I don’t know what happened to him”, he said. “But maybe Mo can tell you more. I know that he talked to... Morgoth”, a shudder ran down his spine, it was hard to call him that – a death sentence in Angband – but he didn’t want to call him his king any longer, he wasn’t anymore and that was a good thing. “Mo talked to Morgoth before he was locked up in Mandos and I know that Mo had a soft spot for the b... for Mablung. He might have asked him about him.”

“Mormirion was Sharû’s superior, he was the Maia who saved our lives and now he’s one of Aule’s again. I know him pretty well because he makes an effort to help the Angband-Elves”, Ecthelion said. “He’s not a bad guy, I could introduce you.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Thank you, Ecthelion, that would be nice. Sharû?” He licked his lips. “You... did you know Mablung... well?”

Sharû had a lump in his throat as he answered: “He was a slave in the part of the mines I was in charge of and... I’m not sure you really want to hear more than that.” He didn’t want to tell him how he’d abused the boy. Ecthelion squeezed his hand and Sharû felt even more ashamed, he shouldn’t have to comfort him because he regretted his misdeeds.

Glorfindel was silent for a long time, just staring at him, Sharû squirmed. “I think it is going to hurt to hear this – a lot – and I can see that you don’t want to talk about it, but please, tell me what you can. I was in love with him, here in Aman before the Darkness. He wound up in Angband because I didn’t take good enough care of him. I owe it to him to hear this.”

Sharû took a deep breath. “He was... strong-willed. I know that sounds strange when I say at the same time that he submitted to us, but he didn’t break and that’s strength of will.” He couldn’t look at Glorfindel so he lowered his eyes to his lap where his hand still lay in Ecthelion’s. “He had to mine for ore and if he didn’t fulfil his quota, he was punished – cruelly. He was so thin... the rations the slaves got were not enough – even when Mo and I slipped him something in addition sometimes, because he...” Sharû tasted bile. “Because he was such a good slave.”

He closed his eyes, but it only made him see Mablung, his eyes wide with fear. “Do you need to hear more? Do you need to hear in detail how I raped and abused him because I saw it as my right to use the slaves as I wished?”

Remorse was pushing its sharp claws into his intestines and it was hard to keep his voice from breaking. He'd never taken for granted that the boy was complaisant, but he _had_ taken for granted, that he could have him. He'd ignored his conscience to live out his desires.

“I’m sorry", he whispered, uncomfortably aware that he was showing this stranger much too much of his feelings. Ecthelion took his hand in both of his and rubbed his knuckles comfortingly but didn't say anything knowing he'd feel uncomfortable if more attention were drawn to his feelings.

Glorfindel didn’t say anything for so long that Sharû finally made himself throw a quick look at him. His pale skin had a green tinge, he looked like he wanted to throw up. “I know that he...” Glorfindel gulped. “But to _hear_ it...”

“I understand if you hate me now”, Sharû said softly although he feared what that would mean for his and Ecthelion’s relationship.

Glorfindel rose so abruptly that Sharû winced. “I can’t... Ecthelion, will you excuse me?”

“Of course.” Ecthelion sounded sympathetic. “I’ll bring you to the door.” He squeezed Sharû's hand and murmured. "I'll be back in a moment", before following Glorfindel outside.

Glorfindel was trembling when he accepted his cloak from Indo and Ecthelion embraced him. “I know how hard it is to hear this, my friend”, he murmured. “But please, don’t hold it against him.”

Glorfindel leaned his forehead against his shoulder and laughed desperately. “Not as hard as to live through it, I think, but you can judge that better than me. I couldn’t appreciate until now how much it must have cost you all to forgive them. How can you share his bed when you know what he did? When you _suffered_ this, too?”

Ecthelion shrugged. “I live in the present and Sharû is a good one, despite having done horrible things in the past.”

“I liked him – before he said all these things. I’m not sure if it isn’t my duty to take revenge for Mablung’s suffering.”

Ecthelion took Glorfindel’s face between his hands and looked deeply into his eyes. “Do you not think this is exactly the reason why you weren’t allowed to see this part of the webs? Mablung is alive. He might not be here, but he is alive and he is no longer a child. Leave the decision if he wants to take vengeance on Sharû to him when the day comes that they meet again. I know you have a lot of feelings right now, but it is not your task to decide this for him.”

Glorfindel took a deep breath and nodded. “You might be right. Don’t worry, I won’t ambush your lover. You are my friend and I can see that you are wildly in love, as hard as that is for me to understand considering your past.”

Ecthelion kissed his cheek. “I understand your pain and I thank you. Do you still want to talk to Mormirion or should I ask you for him?”

“If he agrees, I’d like to meet him”, Glorfindel answered and Ecthelion nodded.

“I’ll write him today and let you know as soon as I hear from him. See you soon, Glorfindel, and don’t blame yourself too much. What happened on the ice was not your fault.”

Glorfindel smiled sadly but he nodded. “I’ll do my best. See you soon, Ecthelion.”

Ecthelion waited until the door had closed behind him before walking back to Sharû who looked at him with pained eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to get you into trouble with your best friend!”

Ecthelion shook his head. “I’m not in trouble with Glorfindel.” He stepped behind him and laid his hands on his shoulders, kissing his crown. “It was good of you to mention Mormirion. The uncertainty about Mablung’s fate has been a burden on Glorfindel’s shoulders for a long time. I think, it would be good for him to know anything certain about his whereabouts”, he said softly.

“I feel so guilty”, Sharû answered. “He was almost a child and I didn’t care.”

Ecthelion could feel the tenseness in his shoulders and started to massage them.

“Can I ask you how it comes that you remember his name? Glorfindel didn’t notice, but isn’t that a little unusual? I was rarely ever asked my name.” He knew it was a tough topic for Sharû. “I’m just curious, you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

Sharû relaxed a little into his touch.

“Mablung was... special”, he said after a while. “He was the first elf who told me he can see the elf in me.”

“Really? You can’t have treated him so badly then.”

Sharû turned around to him and stared at him. “I raped him! And so many others, too. And it doesn’t matter at all, if I was nice about it or not. Rape is rape!”

“That might be true", Ecthelion sighed, "but I know you wouldn’t do something like that now. You and your men made amends and we forgave you. I can’t give you absolution in Mablung’s name, he can do so only himself.” He caressed Sharû’s cheek. “But he isn’t here. If you would take my advice, don’t let things you can’t change darken your life. Worry about it, when the time to meet him again comes. You did bad things, but you didn’t have a good life yourself and you deserve to be happy now.”

Sharû kissed his cheek. “Thank you for saying that. Sometimes, when the past comes up, it is hard to believe that.”

Ecthelion walked around the armchair and sat on Sharû’s lap, pulling his head to his chest and caressing his hair. He knew how hard it was for Sharû to show feelings that he thought made him weak and how ashamed he must feel to show it.

“If you want me to leave, tell me”, he said, remembering vividly that morning at the inn. Sharû shook his head.

“I’m not afraid to show my feelings to you anymore”, he said and leaned into his touch. “It feels good to be able to confide in you.”

“That makes me glad.” Ecthelion rubbed his neck soothingly. “I’m here for you, always.”

“What was this about a drinking game?”, Sharû asked sleepily, Ecthelion’s caresses had him pleasantly relaxed.

Ecthelion laughed embarrassed. “Glorfindel and I were partners in crime, we had a reputation when we were young. Mablung was a servant in the palace, worth nothing more than a fling in my eyes back then.” Ecthelion grimaced. “You aren’t the only one who’s ashamed about their past. Anyway, I could see that Glorfindel was seriously in love with him and I was jealous that he spent so much time with him. I invited him to one of my parties and made him drunk to make him look like a fool and prove to Glorfindel that he wasn’t worth his time. Glorfindel was furious with me.” Ecthelion shrugged. “I thought he might pay me back now that I chose an unconventional lover, but he’s too nice for that.”

“You were a vain lot, weren’t you?” Sharû chuckled. He couldn’t imagine Ecthelion like this, he treated no one condescendingly.

“Yes, long ago.” Ecthelion smiled wryly. “People change. You and I, we are better than we were. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look back and learn from our mistakes – that’s what makes change possible – but if you let the shame about your past dominate you, you can’t do anything to make up for it. Do you understand?”

Sharû nodded. “Yes, I think I do.” He kissed Ecthelion gently and allowed himself to be happy that they could be together.


	19. Chapter 19

Telemnar was surprised to see the door to his house wide open, the entrance hall lighted brightly. He heard instruments and loud voices, it didn’t sound like one of his wife’s parties. He wasn’t even sure if what he heard could be described as music. What was going on here?

Indo stood at the door, at least someone was taking care that no trespassers entered the house, he smiled at him. “You are late, they already started but please, come in”, he said. Telemnar came closer and Indo paled when he recognised him. “My Lord, forgive me! I didn’t recognise you.”

“What’s going on here, Indo?”

“Your son is having his monthly meeting with his people. The Lady allow him to hold it here.”

“Hm.” Ecthelion’s parties were infamous, Telemnar didn’t know what to think of that. “His people?”

“They call themselves Angband-Elves, my Lord. Former slaves, he was...”

“I know”, Telemnar interrupted him. “I saw it. Is Nivwen in there, too?” Indo nodded. “She always greets them if she has the time.”

Telemnar walked to the half-open double door to the garden hall and looked in. The room was full with elves who danced and sang together. He saw by their clothes that they came from all social classes and some of them had obvious scars. It was loud. Telemnar looked around, hoping to find Nivwen and get an explanation from her – instead he saw an orc. He had seem a few things on Vaire’s webs that had confused him, but still, he hadn’t expected to meet an orc in his own home – least of all kissing his son!

Telemnar just made ready to push through the crowd to kick out the orc, when his wife found him. “Telemnar, you are back?” She took his arm and looked at him with wide eyes and Telemnar forgot for a long moment that he was angry.

“Nivwen, forgive me for forsaking you”, he whispered. He’d wanted to say this to her for a very long time. Nivwen kissed his cheek.

“Of course I forgive you.” She took his hand. “Let’s go to a more quiet place.”

“But...” He remembered Ecthelion, but his son had vanished in the crowd together with the orc.

“Let’s not talk about this here”, Nivwen said again and Telemnar followed her to the library.

They sat down together in the large armchair, curled around each other as they had done so often when they were younger.

“How did you fare?”, Telemnar asked softly.

“I was often lonely”, she caressed his arm, “but I suddenly had so much work with the house and the lands and the fact that everything was a little disorganised after the return. Still, I missed you and Ecthelion, it’s been a lot livelier since he came back.”

Telemnar huffed. “I can hear that. What’s going on here, Nivwen?”

She bit her lip. “What do you know about Ecthelion’s life, Telemnar?”

“That he fought bravely in the battles – he never lacked courage, just a bit of good sense – that he finally was taken captive by the Enemy. I saw that he was a slave. I saw him fight for his freedom against the orcs but... alongside them, too? Reading the webs is an art I’m not very good at, it seems. Nivwen, what is the orc doing here?”

“You saw them together, didn’t you? Sharû is Ecthelion’s friend and his lover. He is...” Nivwen shrugged. “He is a decent person and more sensible than many of Ecthelion’s former lovers. I like him.”

Telemnar groaned. “You like him... He is an enemy!”

“The Valar say he isn’t. Listen: Sharû and his soldiers saved the Angband-Elves from certain death and helped them to flee when the army of the Valar stood before Angband’s gates. Ecthelion and his people thought they deserve a second chance and the Valar gave them Tol Eressea to live on.”

“The Valar are not infallible”, Telemnar grumbled and Nivwen slapped the back of his head.

“Hush. In this case they are right. Please, don’t make it hard for Ecthelion. I’m not sure if he already realised it himself, but I believe that Sharû is the one he wants to marry. And sure, Sharû isn’t the nice girl I once envisioned as his bride, but Ecthelion knows what he’s doing.”

“Our son? Knowing what he’s doing?”, Telemnar echoed incredulously. “Are we talking about the same elf?”

“No, possibly not." Nivwen smiled wryly. "He learned to take responsibility, Telemnar. He’s doing so much for his people, he’s their voice and they need him. That party over there is not one of his drinking bouts, he holds these musical evenings to give them something to look forward to and a place where they can all be together. Community is important for them. I’m very proud of him and I hope you can be, too, once you’ve talked to him. I don’t think he saw you, please let him have this night, there’s enough time to talk tomorrow.”

Telemnar relaxed. “Fine. To be honest, I’d rather sit here with you than to argue with my son, anyway.”

Nivwen smiled at him and kissed his lips. “I missed you, Telemnar. I missed you so much.”

Telemnar pulled her closer against him. “I missed you, too, already when I decided to go with Turgon and all these years in Mandos... I’m so happy that you still want me.”

“Of course I do.” Nivwen kissed him again.

Ecthelion rubbed his eyes when someone knocked on his door. “Yes?”, he groaned.

Sharû grumbled sleepily, the warm arm on Ecthelion’s belly pulled him tighter against the orc. Indo opened the door.

“Your mother wants me to inform you that Lord Telemnar returned yesterday. They expect both of you at breakfast.”

Ecthelion sat up and stared at Indo.

“My father lives?” Indo nodded and didn’t bat an eye at Ecthelion’s chest that was covered in bitemarks. Ecthelion groaned. “And of course he saw us together... Thank you, Indo, we’ll come down in a minute.”

Sharû watched him with worried eyes. “Are we in trouble?”

Ecthelion shook his head. “I hope not. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that my father has been rehoused, but every other day would have been better. I hope you don’t mind meeting him?”

“Do I have a choice? But I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

Ecthelion shrugged and pulled Sharû with him as he stood up, shivering a little when the cool morning air hit him. “Any trouble I could be in because of being with you is worth it.” He caressed his shoulders and tore himself away from Sharû with an effort because he knew they wouldn’t make it down in time if he indulged himself.

Sharû followed Ecthelion down the stairs. Ecthelion was right, his father could hardly have chosen a worse day to come back – although Sharû suspected that it hadn’t been up to _him_ that much. Nivwen smiled at him when they entered the dining room.

“Father”, Ecthelion shook his hand with a wide smile. “I’m so happy that you are back.”

“I’m happy to see you alive, too, my son.” Sharû tensed when the elf looked at him.

“May I introduce my friend Sharû, father. Leader of the orcs of Tol Eressea.” Ecthelion smiled at him. “My father Telemnar, Lord of the Silver Fountain.” Sharû bowed.

“It’s an honour to meet you, my Lord”, he said in his best Noldorin.

“My pleasure, Sharû. Please, sit, let’s eat.” Telemnar waited for them to sit and help themselves to food before he said: “Nivwen already told me a little about the nature of your party yesterday. I have to admit that I don’t know what to make of that ‘music’ of yours.”

Ecthelion smiled wryly. “I’m not surprised by that. The ear has to get used to it. I still hope you will permit us to continue meeting here.”

“Nivwen thinks you should be praised for doing this and I trust her judgement. But I want to hear more about the situation. We distrusted ‘escaped’ slaves for a reason.”

Ecthelion tensed, Sharû watched him put his cup back on the saucer with a controlled motion that spoke of the anger he was pushing down.

“It is true that Morgoth tried to plant spies in our midst this way and everyone of _us_ ”, Sharû could hear the emphasis Ecthelion put on the pronoun clearly and he could see that Telemnar did too, “who’s attempts to escape succeeded was punished for it. Do you distrust me, because I was a slave?” Telemnar shook his head. “Then there’s no reason du distrust my people. I’d be happy to introduce a few of my friends to you and you are invited to come to our meetings. You’ll find that we are normal elves.”

Telemnar nodded slowly. “I hear what you are saying and how much this means to you. I rarely heard you stand up for anything so decidedly. I don’t want to fight with you, Ecthelion, not in this and not about your friend.” Sharû didn’t look away when Telemnar’s eyes met his. “But it takes some getting used to, to have an orc in my house. And, if you allow the remark, he isn’t much like the ‘prey’ you favoured in the past.”

Sharû felt his cheeks heat but Ecthelion laughed. “Some people said about me, I favoured anyone who didn’t say ‘no’.”

“Ecthelion!”, Nivwen chided. “Please, that’s not a suitable conversation for breakfast. And you are embarrassing Sharû.”

Ecthelion bowed his head to her. “You’re right, mother, forgive me.” He took Sharû’s hand in his and looked into his eyes while he kissed the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, Sharû.”

“You don’t embarrass me with something like that.” Sharû smiled at him and took a deep breath before turning to Telemnar. “I can understand that you distrust me, my Lord. I was the enemy you fought and had we met in battle, one of us would have killed the other. I did things that were horrible and that I’m not proud of. My men and I experienced the miracle of mercy. I never took the chance we were given for granted and none of us would throw away the life that we have now. I’m not an enemy anymore.”

He knew the look Telemnar gave him. Many elves who had never spoken with an orc looked like this when they realised that he could talk in complete sentences.

“That may be. And Ecthelion never let others decide who he socialised with.” He shrugged with a grim smile. “I suppose, we’ll learn to get along.”

Sharû bowed his head. “I hope so, my Lord.”

Ecthelion squeezed Sharû’s thigh under the table and winked at him. “I’m sure you will”, he told his father. Sharû was nonetheless relieved when breakfast was over and he could leave the scrutinizing glances of Ecthelion's father behind.


	20. Chapter 20

Rog hadn’t bothered to change into formal clothes, he wore leather in green and brown that would allow him to vanish in the woods, his arms were bare and covered in maenais. Ecthelion knew he’d have sneered at that in the past and that Rog might be trying to provoke him, but as he didn’t mind now, he didn’t comment on it, just shook his hand in greeting.

“I got your letter”, he said brusquely, Rog had never had much time for polite pleasantries.

“My... oh!” It had been years since he’d written Rog about the arrangement they had with the orcs about taking revenge. He’d supposed Rog was simply not interested, when he hadn’t gotten any reaction from him.

“I’m notoriously hard to find”, Rog said with a shrug. “Only got it a short while back. It went through a few hands.”

“I didn’t know how else to reach you”, Ecthelion admitted. He had given it to Estel who’s family had contact with some elves who lived deeper in the forest. “Come, take a seat.”

He offered him wine and Rog accepted with a nod. “I was surprised that you thought it necessary to tell me about that”, he said and leaned back in his armchair.

“I think you have a right to know and decide what you want.” Ecthelion looked earnestly at him. “You might not have an interest in being part of our community and that’s okay, too, but you were a slave like us and this arrangement goes for all of us.”

“I’m not interested in taking revenge like that”, Rog said. Ecthelion’s surprise must have shown clearly, because he continued: “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

“Well, I had you down as a vindictive person”, Ecthelion admitted blushing. “But I suppose you already took your revenge back then.”

Rog smiled dangerously. “Did your orc tell you about that?”

“He isn’t _my_ orc”, Ecthelion mumbled.

“I’ve heard otherwise. Anyway, if he remembers me, I reached my goal. And what I want is a fistfight with your lover.”

Ecthelion stared at him. “A fistfight?”

Rog nodded curtly. “I want to brawl with him, I don’t want him to pull his punches. I have my reasons.”

Ecthelion had always found it hard to understand Rog’s mind, but if that was what he wanted... “I’ll write Sharû and ask him to come. Please, be my guest until then.”

Rog hesitated for a long moment, and if it had been anyone else Ecthelion would have felt slightly insulted, then he nodded. “I’ll gladly accept, Ecthelion. Can I ask what he told you about me?”

Ecthelion shrugged. “He was appalled to hear it was you. He told me that orcs you managed to catch alone met an... unpleasant end and that there was a high price on your head.” Ecthelion would have liked to ask after his true name but they had never been close enough that he felt he had the right to ask. “And that it was said you were killed eventually.”

“Yes, I can imagine that it sounded better than saying they couldn’t find me." Rog huffed. "But I admit they cornered me at last. That was when you came over the ice and Fingolfin’s horns could be heard in the Iron Mountains. That’s why I came to you, to fight. I didn’t like it at all to find myself in a secret city with no way out.”

Ecthelion smiled wryly. “Believe me, it was a surprise for us all. Turgon only told the people he needed to build it.”

“Is he back? I think I should pay my compliments if he is.”

Ecthelion shook his head. “Not yet. You probably know better than I how Mandos decides when someone is reborn.”

“Not really. Mandos is an enigma. We’ll have to be patient.” Rog shrugged.

Sharû dodged the elf’s right hook, threw his arms around him and tackled him to the ground. At first he had made the mistake of holding back, he didn’t want to hurt the elf, but that had only earned him a black eye. The elf fell on his back with a breathless sound as the air was pushed from his lungs.

Sharû had hoped he’d be able to overpower him when the elf couldn’t play out his greater swiftness, but a moment later he found himself on his back in turn, the elf’s hands around his throat – and he wasn’t even sure how that had happened. He tried frantically to ply the elf’s hands away but he was in the weaker position. Sharû gasped for air, black dots started to dance in his vision. He reared up, but the elf didn’t budge.

He hated to give up but the elf had him. He slapped the floor tree times and hoped the elf would keep to their agreement. Sharû took deep breaths that hurt in his throat when the elf stood up. His swollen eye pulsed and his bruised knuckles burned – he had gotten in a few good hits, too. The elf wiped his bleeding nose and to Sharû’s surprise offered him his hand to help him to his feet.

“Thank you for the fight, Sharû.”

Sharû bowed his head. “It’s an honour, my Lord.”

The elf huffed a laugh. “I’m no Lord, although I held that title for a while. I’m Rog.” Sharû shivered at the name and the elf gave him an unsettling smile. “It feels good to know that I earned a lasting reputation among your kind.”

“You did indeed, Rog.”

“Can I ask you why you wanted this fight, Rog?”, Ecthelion asked who had watched them and was now offering them water to wash and ointment for their scrapes.

Rog’s gaze became absent, he washed his bloody hands slowly and threw an appraising look at Sharû.

“Born or made?”, he asked.

“B...born”, Sharû stuttered surprised. Elves rarely thought to ask that.

“Thought so”, Rog mumbled. “You know, Ecthelion, when I was there, they still made orcs. They forced us to fight orcs. If we lost, we were starved and tortured, but those who won... the strongest...” Sharû saw Rog shudder and knew what had happened to these elves – he could see by Ecthelion’s horrified expression that he knew too. “I didn’t try to win these fights, although it meant suffering. I knew I’d only suffer more, if I won. I was just curious, if I could win a fair fight against someon like Sharû. That’s all.”

“My father was one of the First”, Sharû surprised himself saying. “Made, as you call it, and two of my surviving men are too.”

Rog nodded, his eyes flit between him and Ecthelion. “I never wondered... because you were enemies and I couldn’t think about it... did they remember?”

Sharû licked his lips, not sure how much he should tell him. But then, he'd been there, he'd seen people turned, maybe friends. He shouldn't leave him in the dark.

“Hard to say. It certainly wasn’t desired. My father didn’t talk about it and I don’t really know how much he remembered. But my comrades’ memories are getting better since we’ve come here, because they are allowed to remember now, you see?”

Rog nodded slowly. “Ecthelion”, he said then. “When I saw you protecting orcs, I thought you were mad and I don’t think I’ll ever be relaxed, let alone comfortable in their presence – no offence, Sharû – but I knew elves who were turned to orcs and maybe the idea that... in a way orcs can become elves again isn’t that farfetched on further reflection.”

Ecthelion looked very happy when he said: “I’m glad you can see it that way.”

Sharû nodded in silent agreement. Rog shook their hands and his grip was firm and warm.

“I’ll leave now", he said. Ecthelion opened his mouth but Rog didn’t let him speak. “No, Ecthelion, I’ve been too long in this city already. Thank you for letting me be your guest – you are alright and that was a pleasant surprise – but I belong to the forest and it draws me there again.”

Ecthelion bowed his head. “As you wish, Rog. But please, if you ever feel like it, come visiting, you don’t have to announce yourself.”

“I might. In fifty years or so.” Rog winked at them. “Farewell!”

~*~*~

After the ceremonial part of the festivities at the rehousing of Fingolfin, where Arafinwe and Fingolfin had proclaimed that they would rule together from now on, Fingolfin remaining the prince of the former Exiles, Glorfindel and Ecthelion stood together with a glass of wine and watched the celebrating nobles. Glorfindel suddenly laughed.

“It’s strange, isn’t it. We’ve stood in this place so often and in the past each of us would already have found his prey. But no longer, hm?”

Ecthelion grinned. “True. I already hunted down my preferred prey.” He waved a little at Sharû who stood with a few people Nivwen had introduced him to, linguists, if he wasn’t mistaken. His friends shoulders were tense, but he didn’t look like he needed rescuing. Ecthelion had been happy to come here with him, Sharû had gotten his own invitation, he was a leader, after all, and he’d thought it impossible to decline without insulting the two finwes. Glorfindel had followed his gaze.

“How did your father take it?”

“Truthfully?" Ecthelion huffed. "I’m not sure. He’s making an effort to understand where I stand with my people – he still has that misconception that we are all under Morgoth’s influence somehow. He didn’t make a scene when he found out about Sharû and he’s not tried to dissuade me, but I don’t think he trusts him.”

Ecthelion sighed. In the past, he’d often fought with his father, but now he found he wanted him on his side.

“It's serious with him, isn’t it?”

“With Sharû?” Ecthelion nodded. “As serious as I never was about this with anyone before.”

Glorfindel had greeted Sharû politely, but that was Glorfindel, it didn’t say anything about his thoughts.

“I know you hold against him, what he did to Mablung, but...”

Glorfindel shook his head. “I won’t say it doesn’t matter, it does, but I believe that he is repentant if you and yours do. And you are right. It’s not my right to take revenge in Mablung’s stead, I have to leave that to himself. I hope you’ll forgive me, if I can’t be completely relaxed with him, though.”

“I know how hard this is for you", Ecthelion touched his arm comfortingly, "and you are much more tolerant than...”

“What is the orc doing here?”, Egalmoth asked as if his words had summoned him.

“That’s what I mean”, Ecthelion mumbled and Glorfindel hid a grin in his glass. “Arafinwe invited him, as leader of his people.”

Egalmoth stared at him with open mouth. “Come again?”

“Get used to it, Egalmoth." Ecthelion narrowed his eyes. "The orcs are a part of the population of Aman now.”

“I know you don’t want to hear that, Ecthelion, but your friend is a sleeping predator. Sooner or later he’ll wake and what then?” Egalmoth looked at Glorfindel asking for help. “You have to see that!”

Glorfindel shrugged silently and Ecthelion shook his head. “That’s bullshit, Egalmoth.”

“He growled at me and showed his teeth!”

“Because you provoked him!” Ecthelion hid his grin. The look on Egalmoth’s face at the occasion had been priceless. “You insulted him and called him stupid. You wouldn’t have said that if he were an elf.”

“Precisely. He is _not_ an elf! He’s an unnatural thing that plays at being an elf. And you are only on his side because you fancy him – for whatever reason.” Egalmoth eyed Sharû with a mixture of revulsion and dislike.

“Do you impute dishonest motives to me, Egalmoth?” Ecthelion smiled sweetly, but his eyes were steely.

“Of course not”, Egalmoth answered quickly, realising he’d gone too far.

“Good. Then I suggest you refrain from saying things like that. I’m not the only one who made friends with them.”

“Just because some people do it, doesn’t mean it is right”, Egalmoth muttered and departed to find other discussion partners.

Glorfindel had listened silently. “I admit, if I didn’t know how much you trust them, I would think like Egalmoth.”

“I know.” Ecthelion smiled wryly. “If they hadn’t saved my life and I didn’t know them so well, I’d probably be suspicious, too, but I _know_ them. And Sharû has a kind heart.”

Glorfindel squeezed his shoulder. “I believe you. Do you never grow tired of it? Saying that again and again?”

Ecthelion shook his head. “I’ll say it as long as it takes to make the most stubborn elf understand. The same way as I’ll repeat again and again that we Angband-Elves are not weak, the we aren’t ‘tainted’, until the last elf stops thinking that.” He knew that there always would be people who couldn’t be convinced but ‘good enough’ was not his goal. Glorfindel smiled gently at him.

“You’ve become idealistic. Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

Glorfindel looked nervous and Ecthelion wondered what would come now.

“What would you say if I told you that I want to go back to Middle-earth?”

Ecthelion started at him, speechless.

“Why? And is that even possible?”, he finally stuttered.

“Why shouldn’t it be?" Glorfindel shrugged. "Many elves visit Númenor and I’m sure I’ll be able to catch a ship to the east from there. Elrond, Earendil’s son is still there and Morgoth’s servant is stirring again, if one can believe the reports that come from Númenor. I want to help Gil-galad and Elrond.”

“And Mablung has nothing to do with this?” Ecthelion raised his eyebrows. He knew that Mo had told Glorfindel that he didn’t know anything about where he’d went, but that Mablung had left Angband alive before it fell. Glorfindel shrugged.

“If I have the opportunity to inquire about him, I will, but no, I don’t want to go back to find him. I swore to Turgon that I’d protect his family and I don’t intend to stop.”

“Do you want me to tell that to Legolas when he leaves Mandos?” He knew that was a low blow, but he didn’t want to lose Glorfindel again. “And what do Arafinwe and the Valar say to your plan?”

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed. “Legolas will understand and Arafinwe says, I should fulfil my oath, if the Valar permit it. I'm still waiting for an audience with Manwe.”

“I don’t like that you want to leave”, Ecthelion admitted. It was so good to have Glorfindel back. “Alone.”

Glorfindel smiled wryly. “You are welcome to come with me.” He became serious again. “Ecthelion, you have a task here. You have people who look at you as their leader and who need your support. But I... I don’t want to sit around her while they need help in Middle-earth. I need something to do and I won’t find that here.”

“Maybe you are right, maybe I’d be restless, too.” Ecthelion sighed."I just don't want to lose my best friend again."

“I won’t go against the Valar’s wishes.” Glorfindel chuckled. “And we all know how long they can take to decide anything.”

Ecthelion laughed. “Well, yes. I wish you luck, although I’ll miss you very much.” He embraced him and Glorfindel patted his back.

“I’ll miss you, too, Ecthelion, but it’s not happening yet. Will you tell Legolas that I love him and intend to come back to him, should he be rehoused only after I’ve left?”

“Of course.” Ecthelion kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself. A second stay in Mandos is surely not desirable.”

Glorfindel smiled. “I’m a soldier, I go back to fight. I experienced death once, I respect Namo but I don’t fear to meet him in Mandos again.”

“If you say so." Ecthelion was unconvinced, but he didn't say it. "You have that experience over me. Still, be careful, when the time comes.”

He almost hoped that the Valar would deny him his wish, although he didn’t believe it. There was no reason, objectively, why Glorfindel shouldn’t go back, although obviously no one had thought that any elf could want that.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”, Telemnar asked him when they arrived home.

“Of course.” Ecthelion added to Sharû: “I’ll be with you soon.”

Telemnar led him to his study and poured them liquor.

“You are not drunk”, he stated and Ecthelion laughed.

“No, I usually am not. I found, I like it better to have my wits about me.” He sipped on the very good liquor, smooth and tasting of honey.

“I want you to know how proud I am of you”, Telemnar said solemnly and Ecthelion looked at him with surprise.

“You are?”

Telemnar nodded. “Arafinwe thinks very highly of you and they way you take responsibility for your people is admirable. I also talked about the Angband-Elves with many people and I’ve come to realise that those, who sneer at you, don’t do so because they are wary that you might still be under Morgoth’s influence, but because they despise you for your experiences in Angband. I hope you know that’s not where I’m coming from.”

Ecthelion bowed his head. He was relieved that his father was saying that.

“That’s good to hear. Some elves think us tainted for our experience, I’d hate to hear you think the same.”

“I don’t and I’m beginning to think it was foolish of me to think they still should be mistrusted. Angband has fallen, Morgoth is a prisoner, you are free and the people you introduced to me are – as you said – normal elves. I wanted you to know this. You’ve become a great man and your people can be glad to have you.”

“Thank you, father." Ecthelion felt himself blush. His father had always been sparing of praise and he knew he meant what he said. "It makes me happy to hear it, especially how you feel about my people.”

Telemnar took his empty glass from him. “Now, I won’t keep you from your... lover any longer. Good night, Ecthelion.”

“Good night, father.” Ecthelion smiled at him and left for Sharû and his bed. This conversation with his father made him hopeful that he would warm to Sharû, too, given time.


	21. Chapter 21

Sharû watched the horizon with a worried frown. The black sails weren’t in sight yet, but he knew they were there. He had taken to wearing his armour again after Ecthelion had told him about the fleet of the human king. They were all carrying swords. They’d been trusted with weapons again for a while now. Although they usually didn’t wear them openly, they hadn’t stopped practicing – it was a part of who they were.

“Sharû?”

He jumped and turned around to the man who suddenly stood behind him.

“Yes?”

“I am Eonwe, Herald of Manwe.” Sharû bowed to the Maia. “The Valar ask you to leave Tol Eressea and withdraw to the land behind the Pelori. There must not be a fight on Aman’s hallowed grounds.”

Sharû stared at him in disbelief.

“These humans are coming to conquer your land!”, he cried. “Do you intend to just roll over and let them have it without a fight?”

Eonwe looked at the horizon and Sharû was sure that _he_ could see the fleet. “

We cannot presume to fight Eru’s creation”, he said. “Manwe has secluded himself to appeal to our father.”

“And until then you want to leave the initiative to the humans? You can do what you want, but we won’t let them destroy everything we built up here. This is our home and we are going to defend it! I can’t believe that the elves are thinking differently.”

Not all of them, at least. Ecthelion hadn’t sounded like he’d just give in when they’d talked the last time.

“Tirion is already evacuated, as is Alqualonde. Withdraw, Sharû.” Eonwe’s eyes flashed. “Maybe it helps you, if I say it like his, from commander to commander: You live on an island with a lot of possibilities to go ashore, you are barely five hundred against an army of thousands. They’ll surround you and kill you. If you think, you have to fight, do it in a defensible position, the place where the Calacirya is narrowest.”

Sharû turned to his village. “They’ll destroy it.”

“Houses can be built anew, your lives are more important. And if I’m honest, I don’t think they’ll stop for your village. They want the mainland. They think living there will give them eternal live.” Eonwe shook his head in grief. “Are you going to do, what the Valar ask of you?”

Sharû took a deep breath. He knew it wasn’t a request and he knew that Eonwe was right, the island was not defensible. He nodded.

“We’ll sail to Alqualonde and march from there. How much time do we have?”

Eonwe looked across the sea again.

“Four days, maybe five, they’ll have to sail against the wind.”

Sharû saw the anger in Eonwe’s eyes and was relieved that it wasn’t turned on him. He didn’t understand why the Valar didn’t just wipe these impertinent humans off the surface of the sea.

There was a section for them in the huge camp that had been set up in the plain behind the Pelori. The whole population of Tirion and Alqualonde had been evacuated here. Sharû ordered his men to erect the tents and left command to his captains as he went to find Ecthelion. He wanted to hear what his friend was thinking about the situation.

Sharû felt the tenseness and insecurity of the elves while he walked through the camp. They’d thought to be save in Aman and now the enemy was on the way.

He found his friend talking with his father and a few other elves. They didn’t wear armour but Sharû saw long knives and daggers on their belts. It was unusual for elves to wear weapons openly, it showed him that they weren’t calm, either. Ecthelion smiled quickly at him when he saw him, but his eyes were serious.

“Sharû, I’m so relieved that you are here.”

He squeezed his hand in greeting and Sharû was glad he didn’t kiss him in front of these strangers, he caressed Ecthelion’s wrist with his thumb.

“I don’t like to give up the island without a fight”, he said. “Is there any kind of plan?”

Ecthelion shook his head and moved away from the other elves to talk in private.

“The Valar don’t allow another spilling of blood in Aman.”

“I hate to say it, but I don’t think these humans care what the Valar want!”, Sharû said exasperatedly. “They won’t just vanish just because we ignore them!”

“I know. Believe me, I and many others would rather defend ourselves, but we can’t afford to go against the will of the Valar – we least of all. It’s about trust, Sharû. The Valar trust in Ilúvatar to come to their aid when they ask him in great need. I know it is hard, but that’s what we have to do now, too.”

Sharû shook his head. “My people and I aren’t very good at trusting in authority.”

Ecthelion smiled wryly. “I know. But think, Sharû, the Valar never did anything that would justify your distrust. I’d rather do something, than sit here where I can’t even see if the ships are already in the bay”, the hill on which Tirion was built, barred the sight to the sea, “but we have to trust in the Valar.”

Sharû sighed deeply, he had a bad feeling. “My men won’t like it, but we’ll accept this, of course.”

Ecthelion nodded. “Can I visit you later?”, he asked and his hand slid up Sharû’s thigh.

“ _Here?_ Do you really want my men listening when I fuck you?”

Ecthelion grinned impishly. “I doubt they’ll be scandalised.”

“You do realise, you’ll get comments on it.” Sharû drew up his eyebrows. It was an open secret that Ecthelion and he were lovers, it wasn’t something that could be hidden in a small village like theirs and Ecthelion didn’t exactly try, but if he came to his tent tonight, it would take things a step further.

Ecthelion laughed. “I think I can handle that. I want to be with you, Sharû.”

“And how could I ever refuse you anything.” Sharû embraced him quickly. “How are your people?”

“Many of them are nervous and the situation is rough on them, but we take care of each other.” One of the elves called Ecthelion’s name and he shrugged. “See you later, Sharû.”

“See you.” Sharû walked back to his men, thinking of how he’d break it to them that they wouldn’t fight.

It was late when Ecthelion slipped into Sharû’s tent. While they couldn’t do anything against the order and inaction of the Valar, they still had the urge to talk about possibilities. Everyone was nervous and the Angband-Elves more than many others, they were afraid of being enslaved again. Ecthelion had done his best to soothe their fears.

He knew – hoped! – that ‘inaction’ was the wrong word, but he was also wondering what would happen if Eru didn’t answer to Manwe’s pleas. There had been a lot of raised eyebrows and curled lips when most of the former Exiles had started to wear weapons again. Maybe these people were right, maybe they were lacking trust in the Valar and Eru, but he felt better with a dagger at his belt. He’d have felt even better wearing armour, but he knew that would have gone too far.

Sharû sat on his camp bed, tense like a beast in a cage but when he looked at Ecthelion his face became gentle. “You came.”

“I don’t care what people say or think!” Ecthelion gripped his collar and yanked him up. Sharû made a surprised sound. “I don’t want to think about what might happen when they come.” He kissed him roughly. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget everything else”, he continued and bit Sharû’s lip.

He heard Sharû growl. It was never easy to coax Sharû into being rough, although he’d convinced him by now that he wouldn’t shatter if there were marks on his body after a night together, but today he didn’t seem to be in the mood for doubts, either. Ecthelion gasped when Sharû gripped him and wrestled him to the ground. Sharû’s tongue was in his mouth, his hands roamed possessively over his body and Ecthelion shivered excitedly.

“You want this?”, Sharû asked huskily and Ecthelion nodded, thrust against his thigh to make him feel how aroused he was.

Sharû growled into his ear and flipped him on his belly before pulling his trousers down. Ecthelion groaned when he prepared him quickly and entered him with one sharp thrust. He moved into him, let the pain and pleasure wash away the uncertainty of tomorrow.

Ecthelion woke with a start when the earth started to shake, the sound of a thousand falling stones roared in his ears. He sat up slowly and looked at Sharû who had jumped out of bed and reached for his sword.

“What is that?”, he asked wide-eyed.

Ecthelion shook his head helplessly. “Eru’s answer to Manwe’s pleas? I don’t know.” There was a lot of dampness in the air, Ecthelion licked his lips and tasted salt. He rose gingerly, aware of the soreness between his thighs. Sharû opened his mouth but he forestalled him. “Don’t you dare apologise. I wanted it and I don’t regret it.” Sharû nodded mutely. “Let’s see if we can find out anything.”

Ecthelion bowed to retrieve his clothes. He got a few leery glances when they left the tent together, most of the orcs had been drawn out by the earthquake, but they were too nervous to crack jokes. Ecthelion walked in the direction of Arafinwe’s tent, if someone knew what was happening, they'd hear it there.

A cloud of dust and water lay around everything and became denser in the direction of the sea. What had happened there? Had a mountain fallen into the sea?

He and Sharû weren’t the only ones who hoped for news from the king. Ecthelion moved beside Egalmoth who threw a disapproving glance at Sharû – his friend just couldn’t get used to his presence.

“Did you hear anything?”, Ecthelion asked and Egalmoth shook his head.

“They sent out scouts as soon as the earthquake stopped, but it’s too soon to hear back from them.” He fell silent when a falcon swooped down from the sky and turned into a blond elf on the ground. Eonwe nodded a greeting to the whispering elves and vanished in Arafinwe’s tent. Ecthelion and Egalmoth shared a surprised look and Sharû said: “I suppose the scouts aren’t necessary anymore.”

Ecthelion felt like time was running by like honey until Arafinwe and Eonwe left the tent together. It was Eonwe who spoke, he didn’t lift his voice but Ecthelion had a feeling that everyone in the camp could hear him: “You can go home, the threat has passed. Eru himself changed the fashion of the world. The humans’ ships were pulled into the abyss, the king and his retinue were buried under stones when they set foot on this land. Númenor is no longer and Aman and Tol Eressea were lifted from the world. Those elves who live still in Middle-earth will find the way so they want, but no human can reach Aman from this day on. Eru himself has ruled it to be so.”

Eonwe was gone as quickly as he had come and Ecthelion, Egalmoth and Sharû shared glances that showed their bafflement.

“What does that even mean?”, Egalmoth said finally and Sharû shrugged, their dislike for each other forgotten for the moment.

“I’ll tell my men to pack up”, Sharû said and Ecthelion nodded. “Yes, I think, I’ll do so, too.” He didn’t know what he’d expected – if he was honest, he _had_ expected that they would have to fight – but this was not it.


	22. Chapter 22

Sharû looked down at Ecthelion, his lover had closed his eyes in ecstasy, head thrown back, he shivered when Sharû slid his hands up his thighs. Ecthelion always gave himself so completely to him. They had only spoken once about what orcs thought of sex between men and never again. Ecthelion had accepted that it was hard, if not unthinkable, for Sharû to allow Ecthelion to fuck him.

But after that night in the tent, when they had thought they’d have to fight in the morning and Ecthelion had asked him to use him roughly... he had sworn to himself that he would give himself to him as completely as Ecthelion did to him. He wanted them to be equal in bed and he knew that Ecthelion had usually been dominant with his partners.

Sharû kissed him, nibbling on his lower lip, and moved his hand to his cock. His heart raced with nervousness. Ecthelion arched moaning into his touch.

“Sharû”, he groaned. “Fuck me!”

And he wanted to, his cock was throbbing, aching for the tightness of Ecthelion’s passage, but... Sharû licked his lips, his eyes set on Ecthelion’s arousal. He took a deep breath and slid down until his head was level with the swollen, wet head. His scent made him shudder with pleasure and, Sharû thought, why then should he enjoy the taste any less?

He stuck out his tongue and tasted the bead of moisture that had formed in the slit. It was salty and Sharû was a little surprised to find himself not disgusted by it. Ecthelion sucked in his breath and swore softly when he dragged up his tongue the whole length of his cock, his fingers sliding in his hair an Sharû smiled at him before closing his lips around the head.

He soon realised he wouldn’t be able to take him in completely and wrapped a hand around the base, but Ecthelion didn’t seem to mind, judging by the sounds he made.

“Sharû, I... if you continue like this...” Ecthelion groaned when he started to massage his balls. “Valar, Sharû!”, he screamed. “I’m going to come in your mouth.”

Sharû tensed. Somehow he had ignored that inevitability until now. Did Ecthelion tell him so he could back out? No, he wanted this. He was curious how it would feel. He let him slip from his mouth to say “You can”, before taking him as deep as he could without choking. Ecthelion’s fingers gripped his hair tightly, his muscles tense when his warm release flooded Sharû’s mouth. More than he’d expected, more than he could swallow. It trickled down his chin and if he thought too closely about it, it was a little disgusting, but Sharû pushed that thought aside. It had been a strangely arousing feeling to make him come like this.

Ecthelion stared at him wide eyed and Sharû had to laugh. “What?”

“I... you caught me a little unawares.” Ecthelion smiled wryly. “I didn’t expect that at all.”

Sharû hesitated to kiss him, he still had Ecthelion’s come on his lips, but the elf didn’t seem to mind. He pulled him up and gave him a long, passionate kiss. Sharû moaned and thrust against Thel’s thigh, he hadn’t come yet. Ecthelion looked at him lovingly, licked his chin and turned on his belly.

“Take me”, he said, spreading his legs and raising his backside. “I want to feel you inside me.”

And Sharû followed that plea all too happily.

Ecthelion stretched contentedly before turning to Sharû and laying his arm around him.

“Where did that come from?”, he asked.

He didn’t have to say what he meant, he saw that Sharû knew. The orc smiled a little embarrassed.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I didn’t want to announce it and risk that we’ll talk it to death.” He frowned in mock anger. “Sometimes you talk too much, elf.”

Ecthelion laughed and kissed the frown away. “It was great. I just thought... Didn’t you say that orcs don’t to this?”

“We don’t, usually." Sharû shrugged awkwardly. "But we usually aren’t in love with an elf, either.”

Ecthelion smiled but then he realised what Sharû had just said. He’d never said before that he loved him. He pulled him close and rested his chin on Sharû’s head.

“I love you, too, Sharû”, he said softly.

“I know”, Sharû sighed. “I’m sorry for being so difficult.”

“You aren’t. You are, who you are. You were taught to not show feelings, not allow weakness. I know how much it means that you say these words and that you did what you did. It means a lot to _me_.”

Sharû made an embarrassed sound and said: “How do you do that, anyway? Swallow me completely, I mean.”

Ecthelion chuckled. “It’s a matter of being relaxed and just practice, really”, he said. “But don’t worry yourself over it.” Ecthelion grinned. “You don’t have to be able to for this to be _very_ enjoyable.” He kissed him gently and laughed when he heard Sharû’s belly growl. “Midnight snack?”

Sharû laughed softly. “You tire me out, my lord, I’m starving. And you know, I’ll try elf if push comes to shove.” Ecthelion squeaked when he pinched his side.

“I’m sure I have something that tastes better than me”, he laughed and opened the drawer of his night table to pull out cheese and bread and some grapes. He always restocked his provisions when he knew Sharû was coming.

“Hmm, I don’t know about that”, Sharû answered, nibbling on his shoulder. “But I’ll settle for bread and cheese.”

“Lucky me!” Ecthelion grinned and offered him a hunk of bread. “I’ll get the wine.”

They’d drunk some before they’d moved to the bed and the decanter still stood on the table in the other room. Ecthelion brought it over, refilling their glasses and sitting cross-legged on the bed where Sharû had spread out what looked like a pick-nick. Sharû accepted his glass with a smile and motioned at the food. “Serve yourself, my lord.”

Ecthelion laughed and cut himself a slice of cheese. He wasn’t really hungry but he didn’t want Sharû to feel awkward about it – and he still felt uncomfortable leaving out an easily achievable meal, even after all that time.

“So, this was the first blowjob you’ve ever given anyone?”, he asked.

Sharû stared at him and took a gulp of his wine.

“Yes”, he answered and blushed. “How did you like it.”

Ecthelion smirked. “You were very good for the first time. How did _you_ like it?”

“It was... enjoyable, oddly.”

“Oddly?” Ecthelion drew up his eyebrows although he could imagine what he meant.

Sharû sighed. “You know I was taught to think of this as demeaning. But I didn’t feel humiliated. I enjoy giving you pleasure.” Sharû smiled at him and Ecthelion smiled back.

“That’s good. I couldn’t enjoy it, if you were forcing yourself.” He drew a circle around Sharû’s knee with his fingertip. “Do you ever wish to do something... different?"

Ecthelion knew it was a dangerous question, Sharû didn’t like being reminded of what he’d done in the past, but Ecthelion often wondered, if he had... urges he hid from him.

“Different how?” Sharû frowned.

“Well... I know you like it rough, although you try not to be.”

“I like it gentle, too”, Sharû quickly interrupted and Ecthelion kissed him with a smile.

“I know. I’ve just been wondering if you hold back other things. I mean, I’ve seen a lot of things in Angband.” And not only seen.

Sharû didn’t meet his eyes and Ecthelion moved closer to him, leaning against him and rubbing his neck. “You don’t have to be ashamed, love. If there is something you want, you can tell me. We’ll figure something out.”

Sharû shook his head. “I... I did enjoy beating slaves, but I don’t feel the urge to do that to you – or anyone, really. I don’t know, maybe... if you were told as a youth that this is how sex works, would you second-guess it?”

Ecthelion kissed his shoulder. “I understand.”

Sharû turned his head and smiled at him. “And I understand why you asked. Thank you.” He nipped at Ecthelion’s lower lips. “I trust you, Thel, but my deepest, darkest desire is nothing more than what we already do. Yes, I sometimes enjoy being rough, but I also enjoy the slow, gentle sex we so often have.” Sharû’s hand travelled down Ecthelion’s side and he sighed with a smile. “What about you? Any secret desires?”

Ecthelion laughed. “Well... as it was so hard to convince you that I sometimes like it rough, too, I didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable, but... I think, I’d like it, if you chase me through the forest.”

“Hunt you down, you mean?” Sharû huffed in amusement.

Ecthelion nodded and blushed a little. You’d think Angband would have healed him of this kind of desire. But he still liked it rough and the thought of being hunted through the woods like prey aroused him. Sharû looked him in the eyes for a long moment, then he reached down to stroke Ecthelion’s hardening cock.

“Oh, you really like that thought.” He laughed. “And know what, me too.”

Ecthelion laughed breathlessly and leaned into Sharû’s touch. “Good for me. Now, love, kiss me.”


	23. Chapter 23

Ecthelion ran through the wood, his own ragged breathing loud in his ears. He wasn’t silent, not at this pace but still not as loud as his pursuer whom he could hear crashing through the underbrush behind him. His heart drummed with excitement, the rush of being hunted coursing through his veins. It had taken some persuasion to actually follow up on their conversation, but he’d done it.

Pleasure shot hot through his body as he imagined how it would be when Sharû caught up to him. He dove under a deep-hanging branch, sidestepped around a large boulder and slowed down when he neared the spot he had chosen earlier – he didn’t want to wind up naked in the brambles. A brook flowed through the wood here and the ground was overgrown with moss, damp but also soft – it was summer, he didn’t mind he dampness. Ecthelion gasped when Sharû suddenly jumped at him from behind, throwing him to the ground.

“Caught you, elf!”, he growled into his ear.

Ecthelion squirmed to lift his head and spit out a bit of moss that had gotten into his mouth. Sharû was heavy, all muscle and Ecthelion knew that he had little chance to get away now – not that he really wanted. Sharû’s breath was loud and hot on his ear, he could feel his erection press into his thigh.

“Will you keep still!”, the orc barked and pushed his face into the moss again before twisting his arms on his back, Ecthelion shuddered in pleasure as his big, calloused hand closed around his wrists.

Sharû dug his knee into his lower back so he didn’t try anything funny and tied his wrists with his belt. Ecthelion gasped when he jerked down his trousers, the cool, wet moss a sharp contrast to his heated skin. Sharû gave him a burning slap on his buttock.

“Let’s see how long it takes me to break you in, elf.” He gripped his hips and jerked his ass up, Ecthelion moaned.

‘Don’t be gentle’, he had told his lover beforehand.

Ecthelion groaned when Sharû entered him with one hard thrust. They’d spent quite some time preparing him back in Sharû's house but it still burned, he felt so tight, Sharû’s cock huge inside him. Sharû’s gasps were loud in his ears, even louder than his heartbeat, as he fucked him with sharp thrusts that made him moan with pleasure. He was hard, enjoying the rush of having been hunted down, of being at the mercy of his hunter – despite the past. He’d been a little afraid that he wouldn’t be able to follow through with this, but there was only pleasure in his mind, nothing else. Ecthelion moaned loudly when Sharû’s hand finally closed around his cock.

“More! Please!”, he screamed. He was so close!

Sharû laughed and stroked him in the rhythm of his thrusts. Sharû bit his shoulder, when he came and Ecthelion followed quickly, pushed over the edge by the prick of Sharû’s teeth.

Sharû slid out of Ecthelion and untied his arms. The belt had left red imprints on his skin, he rubbed the reddened spots and helped his lover to lay down more comfortably. The ground was wet, but it was a hot day and the cool moss felt good on his sweaty skin. He laid down beside him, watching Ecthelion while his breath came back to normal. The elf had a dreamy smile on his face.

“You are mad”, Sharû mumbled gently and kissed the corner of his mouth. Ecthelion’s smile became wider. “Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough?” He enjoyed rough sex and – Valar! – he’d enjoyed to hunt him through the forest, but he didn’t want to hurt him.

“Yes.” Ecthelion stretched with a contented sound. “But you can carry me home later.”

Sharû laughed and embraced him. “I’ll carry you home. And I’ll lay you in my bed. And I’ll tuck you in.” He kissed his lips after every sentence. “And then I’ll lay down beside you and warm you with my body.”

Ecthelion sighed and caressed his arm. “That sounds wonderful. I love you.” They shared another kiss.

“I love you, too”, Sharû said, it was still hard for him to put his feelings into words, but after the threat of the Númenoreans, he felt like he needed to say it – even in the Blessed Realm ‘too late’ could happen.

“Did you like it?”, Ecthelion asked and Sharû huffed in amusement.

“Of course I did. I was afraid _you_ might... change your mind.” That was why he’d asked Ecthelion to not fight back once he’d caught him. It would have been too much – too real.

“I know. I wasn’t completely sure, either. But I didn’t." Ecthelion kissed him gently. "Thank you for this. I enjoyed it very much. Now, that bed...”

Sharû lifted him up, half-clothed with leaves in his hair and a smudge on his cheek. “You look ravishing, Thel.”

Ecthelion chuckled. “More like ravished, eh?”

“Same to me.”

Sharû laughed, a little breathlessly because Ecthelion was tall and muscular, it wasn’t easy to carry him like that. Might have been easier to throw him over his shoulder... Sharû grinned at himself, he might have even done that if he’d intended to get them in the mood for more, but Ecthelion’s lids were heavy, he looked like he’d fall asleep any moment.

The door was open, Ecthelion had started to run so suddenly that he hadn’t had time to close it, but it didn’t matter, no one would steal from him. He closed the door with his foot and laid Ecthelion on the bed, pulling his boots of and untangling his trousers from his ankles. Sharû undressed too and embraced into him under the blankets, Ecthelion had already fallen asleep. He kissed his forehead gently.

“I love you”, he whispered, it felt good to say it. Maybe... elves married when they loved each other, didn't they? Could that be the next step for them?

~*~*~

Sharû played with the small velvety box in his pocket. He had argued with himself a lot if he should buy this or not. It would be so final... but wasn’t it that already? There was no reason to not make it official. And he was sure that it would mean a lot to Ecthelion. His friend was always so considerate of his feelings, he’d never pushed him to go further than he was comfortable.

He had wondered sometimes if Ecthelion was carrying a ring around. It was obvious to him that his lover wanted their bond to be permanent but was holding back. For such a long time. And just for him. Sharû felt awkward, he didn’t even know how to approach this. He’d read books, but... he wasn’t sure if they were authentic.

Ecthelion waited at the harbour, a smile on his lips. He always came down to walk with him into the city. Ecthelion. He’d never have thought that he would once meet someone – and an elf at that – who he wanted to share eternity with. And even less that it should be granted to him. He was an orc. They had tried to train love out of him – but they hadn’t succeeded.

Sharû smiled at Ecthelion. They had won. Really and truly. He held on to the ring box in his pocket. Not here in public. It was late afternoon, Sharû had been on the Island for a few days to settle some strife between his men. He spent a lot of time on the mainland with Ecthelion, but he still had his house on the Island and he didn’t intend to permanently move away from there. He was the leader of his men, many of them still called him ‘Colonel’ and he had a responsibility for them.

“Good afternoon, love.” He kissed Ecthelion’s lips.

“You seem to be in a good mood.” Ecthelion smiled at him. “Went everything well?”

Sharû nodded. “Yes. Peace is restored and I can come back to my favourite elf.” Ecthelion laughed and gave him another kiss.

“I love you, too.”

“Autumn is coming”, Sharû said and shivered when a gust of wind found its way under his coat.

Ecthelion who was completely unfeeling when it came to weather, as Sharû thought, lifted a leaf off the ground and twirled it on its stem.

“Yes, looks like it. You were lucky to be able to make the journey before the storms.”

Sharû nodded silently. He didn’t like boats much, although he used them out of necessity, and sitting in a nutshell, at the mercy of the elements – or an Ainu, depending on who you asked – was frightening.

“Let’s go home?”, he asked Ecthelion. It was a sunny day and usually they ate at a restaurant in the city, but he wanted to be alone with his lover now.

“Feeling horny?”, Ecthelion said with a wink and Sharû shrugged unapologetically.

“Yes.” That, too. “How couldn’t I with such a beautiful elf in my reach.”

It was impossible to have this enticing elf around and not want him. Ecthelion laughed and linked their fingers as they walked up the hill.

Sharû caressed Ecthelion’s naked back. The elf had fallen asleep after they had fucked and usually he wouldn't have been awake much longer himself. Ecthelion mumbled something in his sleep and snuggled into him, his body warm against Sharû’s. Sharû wasn’t tired, he was still wondering how he should approach the topic.

He looked around the room and saw his belt pouch lie beside the bed. He wondered if he would wake Ecthelion if he reached for it. Carefully he stretched his arm. Maybe he’d surprise him with it, when he woke. It wasn’t at all like in the books, but Sharû decided to follow his instinct. _They_ weren’t like the people in the books, either. He stretched a little more and managed to pull the belt closer with his fingertips.

Ecthelion protested sleepily, but he didn’t wake. Sharû took the box out of the pouch, pleased with himself, and put it on his chest, next to Ecthelion’s face.

“What’s this?”, Ecthelion mumbled and Sharû jerked.

“I thought, you are asleep!”, he answered.

“I was.” Ecthelion yawned. “But now I’m awake... almost. So, what is it?”

“Well...” Sharû hesitated. Was this really the right moment? But what was that? The right moment. They loved each other, had done so for years.

‘What if he says no?’, shot through Sharû’s mind. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it?

“We’ve been together such a long time that it’s almost normal to all around us. Even your father and Egalmoth got used to me.” Ecthelion huffed, but didn’t interrupt him. His eyes were on him and he vibrated with excitement. Sharû suspected that he knew exactly, what he was intending to do. “And, well, usually elves who love each other marry, I’ve been told. I’m not an elf, but I don’t want to be without you ever again, Ecthelion. And that’s why I want to ask you, if you want to marry me?”

Sharû fumbled with the clasp, his fingers clumsy with anxiety.

“Sharû!” Ecthelion kissed him lovingly. “Of course I want to marry you.”

He caressed the silver ring Sharû had commissioned from one of his men. It had engravings that were a mixture of elvish and orcish motives. He offered him his hand and Sharû slipped the ring on his finger, before Ecthelion turned around and opened a drawer in the cupboard beside his bed.

“I, Ecthelion of the House of the Fountain, give myself to you, Sharû, Colonel of the orcs of Tol Eressea, in betrothal.” The ring fit Sharû perfectly, a blue stone was set in the silver. “May these rings be a promise and a sign of our intentions to all.” He kissed him again and grinned. “You know that my mother is going to throw us the biggest wedding of the century?”

Sharû gulped. “To be honest, I didn’t bother to think beyond this moment. I was too occupied with reading about elvish marriage traditions.”

Ecthelion blinked surprise. “You read _books_? I’ve never seen you read, I think.”

“I could hardly ask you!”, Sharû said. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You succeeded.” Ecthelion’s voice was husky and Sharû noticed tears in his eyes. “I love you, Sharû. And... and this”, he caressed the ring, “means everything to me.”

Sharû had never understood why elves gave so much weight to a ceremony. It was just a ritual. Ecthelion and he were already living like a married couple. But he didn’t say that now. Instead he hugged Ecthelion close.

“I love you, too, Ecthelion. I can be the person I want to be with you.”

Ecthelion clung to him for a while before rolling on top of him and smirking down at him. “What kind of books did you read?”

Sharû squirmed embarrassed, but that only led to him becoming aware of the closeness of their bodies. “I started with some books about your customs, but...” He felt Ecthelion’s suppressed laughter in his chest and slapped his backside. “Don’t laugh! It seemed the most obvious course.”

“I can’t believe that you bothered with that.” Ecthelion stifled his giggles on Sharû’s chest. “Those were already starting to get outdated when I was young. There are people who life after them – elves can be very traditional – but most of us, especially those of us who favour men, don’t think much of them. And after? What kind of books did you read?”

Sharû scratched his neck. “Well, it were... stories. Of elves in love, you know?”

Ecthelion was laughing outright now. “You took romances as inspiration? Where did you get those?” “

Alqualonde has a well-stocked library. I believe the librarian was a little weirded out by my presence.”

Ecthelion wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “I can imagine.” His voice trembled with mirth. “That sounds like the start of a joke. ‘An orc comes into a library...’”

“Haha." Sharû sniffed. "I’m glad that I’m amusing you. I seriously thought about inviting you to dinner and proposing to you on my knees. Do you really do it like that?”

“That’s called romantic, love.” Ecthelion was still giggling. “But don’t worry. These books aren’t... real, they are just romantic fantasies. And it wouldn’t have felt like you. _This_ is real.”

He kissed him again and Sharû’s hand travelled down his side and squeezed his backside, caressed up and down his thigh. Ecthelion moaned into the kiss and rubbed against him. Sharû felt his blood rush to his groin and gripped tighter. His gaze slid to the ring on Ecthelion’s finger. Betrothed. Bonded. He’d never dared dream of this in the darkness of Angband and even afterwards... How could he be so incredibly lucky? He felt so happy he thought his heart would burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided pretty spontaneously that this is the end of this part of the series. I'm not finished with them yet, I definitely want to write something about Sharû's mother being reborn (in fact, I've already written a bit of that), but I realised that they both would feel the need to apologise to Mablung right away when he comes to Aman, which means I'll have to rewrite some bits in Mighty Love and I have to mull that over for a while.  
> I also finally decided to try out tumblr. Come and chat with me [@chrissystriped](https://chrissystriped.tumblr.com/)


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